


Duty-bound

by death_frisbee



Series: Duty-bound [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arranged Marriage, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Mild angst and drama, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Prince Victor Nikiforov, vaguely historical setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_frisbee/pseuds/death_frisbee
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri, Earl of Hasetsu, is convinced that the proposal of marriage from Prince Victor Nikiforov is a joke. But when it turns out to be very real, he has to face the disappointment of his future station as Prince Consort. He's tempted to resign to his fate, but is there a chance he can convince the prince that he's more than just a pretty face? It's possible, and he might just fall in love along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hattie_hat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hattie_hat/gifts).



                When Katsuki Yuuri—Earl of Hasetsu, son of Baroness Katsuki Hiroko of Sagashima—first received the summons, he assumed it was a mistake. When the courier assured him that, yes, the royal summons were indeed for Katsuki Yuuri, Earl of Hasetsu, son of Baroness Katsuki Hiroko of Sagashima, he then assumed that this was some sort of cruel joke. His island was just a tiny part of the kingdom, with Hasetsu being tinier still, so there was absolutely _no way_ that Crown Prince Victor Nikiforov would know that he even _existed_ , titled or not.

                The courier patiently waited for Yuuri to finish giving his reasons as to why Prince Victor wouldn’t know who he was and giving his own evidence otherwise. Once Yuuri had run out of arguments, he then read the full summons.

                “His Royal Highness, Prince Victor Nikiforov, would like to offer Lord Katsuki Yuuri, Earl of Hasetsu, his hand in marriage. If the earl chooses to accept, then he…”

                The courier said some other things. Well, Yuuri assumed that he did. A thick static seemed to fill his ears, blocking out everything except for the one word repeating itself in his head.

                _Marriage._

                Marriage marriage marriage marriage.

                Marriage to _Prince Victor._

                At some point, he registered that the courier had stopped speaking and was looking at him intently for his answer. Yuuri stared at him for a moment, static still deafening him to the outside world and rendering him silent. Until…

                “Yes.”

                Of course he would agree to marry the prince.

                What else could he do?

~

                Yuuri had seen the prince just twice in his life: once as a child, and once just a year before the proposal. Both times he had been utterly entranced. The first time, he’d been left buoyant. The second time, he felt as though he needed to be scraped off the floor.

                The first time, he’d been twelve. With his sister Mari settled into adulthood and showing no sign of wanting to take on the Barony, he’d been the one to take up the mantle of being Earl of Hasetsu (well, just in name for now). So, to acquaint him with court life, his mother had brought him to the mainland for the annual Senate meeting.

                It had been a dream. So many lights! So many people! It had been a little nerve-wracking—after all, Yuuri was used to his quiet little hometown—but there was so much to see and do that he had pushed through his nervousness and enjoyed himself. He hadn’t liked sitting through the long talks about laws and boundaries and treaties much at all, but this was his future. So, spectacles on the edge of his nose and sitting straight in his seat, Yuuri did his best to pay attention to what the adults were saying.

                But that concentration was shot when the royal family walked in on the meeting.

                Everyone rose and gave a bow to the Nikiforovs. While Yuuri copied his mother, he made the grievous error of looking up while bowing. A glint of silver caught his eye, and he couldn’t help his gasp as he locked eyes on the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen in his life.

                Looking back, he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. The Nikiforov family was known for their miraculously good looks, and Prince Victor was certainly no exception to that family trait. He was sixteen then—his silvery hair spilled over his shoulders like water, and he moved through the Senate hall with a careless grace that made something in Yuuri ache. He paused, body poised like a dancer waiting for a cue, and with a very slight turn of his head, met Yuuri’s gaze.

                Immediately, Yuuri turned his eyes downward, clenching his jaw hard as he felt his face heat up. That was stupid. And rude! If Victor said anything, he’d definitely be thrown out. And at his very first trip to the court, too!

 But, despite the way his heart hammered in his chest, he wasn’t really scared—even with how quickly he looked down, he’d still caught the way Victor’s lips had turned up.

                The meeting continued once the king and queen had sat down, now ready to join in the debates and discussions. Yuuri had tried to resume his focus from earlier, but his eyes kept sliding over to look back at Victor. While he’d been the picture of grace as he’d walked in, he was very clearly a teenaged boy now. He couldn’t keep still for more than a moment; he fidgeted in his seat, he braided and unbraided his long hair, he tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair.

                He was absolutely _fascinating_ to watch.

                “Don’t stare, Yuuri-kun.” At his mother’s gentle reprimand, Yuuri felt his face go bright red, and he focused as hard as he could on the boring topic of how to disperse this year’s harvest among the territories. And, more importantly, he focused doubly hard on _not_ looking at Victor.

                Thankfully, the meeting ended fairly soon after the Nikiforovs’ entrance. While the barons and baronesses mingled with the king and queen afterward to catch them up on what had been discussed, Hiroko nudged Yuuri.

                “I think you’ve listened to enough boring discussions,” she said with a little wink. “Unless you’re really set on meeting the king and queen, you can head back to our rooms. I’ll be there in just a little bit.”

                Yuuri shifted his weight awkwardly, scanning the room for long, silver hair. He didn’t want to listen to any more about territories and taxes, but if Victor was still here…

                “Do you know the way back, Yuuri-kun?”

                Yuuri blinked. “Yeah, I remember,” he assured. “I…I think I’ll head back.”

                Hiroko watched him for a moment, then smiled. “The Capitol is a bit much, isn’t it? Take a rest, then why don’t we see if we can find some decent katsudon in this city?”

                He nodded distractedly, still looking for Victor. But it seemed like he’d ducked out already; a twist of disappointment hit Yuuri right in the stomach, but he supposed it was reasonable. Victor clearly hadn’t wanted to be there at all, and a quick glance certainly wouldn’t have convinced him to stay. With a little huff of disappointment, Yuuri made his way out of the Senate room.

                The Senate was adjoined to the palace, which is where the Katsukis—as well as the other dignitaries—were staying during this session. So, theoretically, it should have been easy to find his way back.

                Except that the palace was _massive._

                Yuuri couldn’t keep track of where he’d turned and where he had been. There were _so_ many doors, and the few he’d dared to open had been to ballrooms or libraries or galleries. Was he even on the right floor for the living quarters? How many floors were there, anyway? Oh god, what if he never found it? What if his mother couldn’t find him? Would he die here in the Nikiforovs’ palace? _Would they ever find his body? Oh god, oh god, he was lost, he was so lost and he was never going to get ou—_

                “Hey! You! I recognize you!”

                Yuuri let out a relieved breath as he heard the voice—thick with the mainland’s accent—behind him. At least he wouldn’t die in these halls. He turned around with a smile, only to choke as he saw Prince Victor standing there. _Oh_ , god. What did he do? What should he say? He was only twelve, how was he supposed to know what to say to royalty?

                Victor either ignored or didn’t notice the way Yuuri stiffened up. He gave the boy a bright smile.

                “You were sitting in on the meeting. You must be one of the new pages!”

                Yuuri wanted to correct him, but his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth. He watched mutely as Victor’s head fell back with a melodramatic sigh.

                “It’s _so boring_ , isn’t it? I can hardly stand it. But you know, it’s always ‘Vitya, you need to prepare for your future’ and ‘Vitya, one day you’ll be making and passing these laws’.” Victor sighed again, then looked back down at Yuuri with his fair brows drawn together. He set his hands on his hips. “What are you doing in the East Wing, anyway? Pages normally stay over by the Senate.”

                Finally, Yuuri managed to wrench his tongue free. “I…I was looking for…for the living quarters. Where…where the, uh, the people i-in the Senate are staying.”

                “Oh! Well, that’s over in the South Wing. Which is…” Victor blinked a few times. “Which is…” He pressed a finger to his lips, brow furrowing. “Hm.” All at once, he sent Yuuri a wide, bright smile; if his heart hadn’t been securely in his chest, Yuuri was sure it would have melted right to the floor. “What do you say we find it together?”

                It took a few directions from servants and several retracings of steps, but eventually, they found the South Wing. Yuuri finally was able to find the right door to his room. Before he stepped inside, he quickly turned back to Victor and bowed stiffly.

                “Thank you for helping me, your highness!”

                “Of course! Um. What was your name again?”

                Yuuri sucked in a breath, keeping his position. “Katsuki Yuuri! E-earl of Hasetsu!”

                Victor was silent for a long moment. Yuuri felt a muscle twitch in his back, but he kept his position. He’d already been rude enough today; he could hold this until Victor deemed it time to leave. That was what he was supposed to do, right? Oh, god, maybe he was supposed to stand now. Or kneel? What did you do when royalty helped you find your room? Even if it wasn’t really great help, he still—

                Yuuri’s thoughts stopped at a light touch to his shoulder. He looked up, meeting bright blue, smiling eyes.

                “Well, if you’re an earl, that means one day _you’ll_ be boring me with all that Senate talk.”

                Yuuri straightened up, feeling his cheeks heat up. The sting of Victor’s words were eased as the prince laughed lightly before smiling at him.

                “I look forward to working with you one day, Katsuki Yuuri.”

                Yuuri spluttered out something in response, then beat a hasty retreat into his rooms. Once the door was closed, he sank against it and breathed slowly. His heart felt as if it were filling his chest—suffocating, but not entirely unpleasant. He didn’t know what this feeling was—he wouldn’t know for a few more years—but even so, one thought was very clear.

                He wanted to impress Victor. Somehow, he’d find a way to be the best baron possible.

                And he definitely woudn’t bore him at any Senate meetings.

~

                It was nearly a dozen years later that he saw Victor again. A lot had changed since then: for instance, Yuuri had traveled abroad for his schooling in order to get a better idea of how other countries ran, as well as to become more well-rounded as a future baron. (A little _too_ well-rounded by the end; the stress had gotten to him, and he’d had a few too many comfort foods for his own good. After _one_ of his mother’s famous pork cutlet bowls, he’d resigned himself to bean sprouts and broth for a few weeks. It was miserable, but necessary.) He’d also taken on more responsibilities in ensuring Hasetsu was the best village it could be—listening to complaints, raising funds for improvement projects, and other boring, necessary tasks. His mother had even given him a few of her own responsibilities to take care of.

                The stress was high, but this was going to be his life once his mother decided to step down. So he did all he could to be the best Earl to the people of Hasetsu, and to prove that he would be the best Baron to the people throughout Sagashima.

                Things had changed on the mainland as well. The king and queen had died suddenly earlier in the year, leaving Victor as heir to the throne. However, he wasn’t king just yet. Through some stipulation that seemed to be quite secret, he merely remained the Crown Prince and was governing with the family’s advisor, Yakov Feltsman. The entire population was nervous over the currently-unfolding events. Though Victor was known to be the picture of grace and an elegantly handsome young man, some rumors said that he was a vapid airhead. Less kind rumors said he was a spend-thrift, a playboy who would ruin the kingdom. The most vicious said that he’d been struck from the royal line completely, and would only be the ruler until some unknown relative—hidden away to prevent any harm—came of age and took their place as King or Queen.

                Yuuri tried his best not to pay attention to the rumors. Even though it had been over a decade since he’d had his face-to-face meeting with the prince, he was still utterly enthralled by him.  Throughout his teenage years, he’d done his best to keep up on any bit of news about Victor that came to Sagashima. Scraps about his travel and schooling, official portraits…somewhere along the way, he’d even learned that the prince had a poodle he adored. Most importantly, though, Yuuri always kept tabs on where the royals were visiting in the kingdom.

                Sagashima, tiny province that it was, was rarely ever visited by the Nikiforovs. But despite this, Yuuri often found himself daydreaming of what would happen if Victor came to Hasetsu. The prince would obviously remember him from their little meeting, and he’d see what a competent, kind leader he was to his people. And, in private, Yuuri would be witty and engaging (this was _his_ daydream; he could set aside his anxiety in his fantasies), and Victor would hang onto every word with wide blue eyes. He’d be so impressed by Yuuri that he would…that he would…

                Well, Yuuri never got to that part in his daydreams, because he wasn’t exactly sure what he _wanted_ from Victor. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to be seen as a competent ruler and earn Victor’s respect.

                So, when Hiroko suggested that _he_ go to the Senate to represent Sagashima, Yuuri saw his chance to make his daydreams come true.

                While he’d since visited other big cities, there was still something electric in coming to the capitol. The lights, the people, the buildings…the moment Yuuri had stepped off the boat, he’d felt the same way he had at twelve, his eyes darting around to every bit of the city he could drink in. But as much as he wanted to explore, he was there for business. It was time to show that he was an active, valuable part of the kingdom.

                He remembered where the South Wing of the palace was, and he spent the entire night before the Senate meeting going over his talking points.

                “Our recent census has shown that Sagashima has seen a 12-percent increase of our population in the past year. As a growing part of the kingdom, I think it would be beneficial if we could see a slight increase in funding to our education and open up the possibility of allowing more of our workforce to easily come to the mainland…Our recent census has shown that Sagashima has seen a 12-percent increase of our…”

                It was basic information that could have been sent via courier, honestly. But if Yuuri could prove himself in this tiny task, that meant he was one step closer to being the leader he wanted to be. And, almost as importantly, being one step closer to impressing Victor.

                 The next morning came, and Yuuri made his way to the Senate hall. Back straight, face composed, head held high, he tried his best to ignore the way his stomach knotted up. This would be fine. It would be _fine_. Sure, it was his very first time acting as the representative of Sagashima, and he’d be in front of over a dozen experienced leaders and he’d only ever done public speaking in front of a few of the locals over at Hasetsu and they would all be judging him and by extension judging Sagashima and if he messed this up he ran the risk of ruining the reputation of his island and ruining any and all future agreements and se—

                “ _Ciao ciao!_ ”

                Yuuri sucked in a gasp as a strong hand clapped down on his shoulder, breaking his train of thought. He looked up and managed a weak smile at the man who’d snuck up beside him. Celestino Cialdini, Baron of Bellezza, grinned back.

                “You were thinking too hard, Yuuri. I think you scared off a few pages with that face.”

                “What’s wrong with my face?”

                “It…ah, nevermind. I see you’re taking over for Hiroko this year. Why don’t we walk in together?”

                Yuuri relaxed ever so slightly as Celestino chatted with him about Bellezza and the Senate ball that would happen that night—easy, mindless things. He’d more or less taken him under his wing while he’d been studying in Bellezza: walking him through public events, teaching him a few of the more delicate aspects of being a part of the aristocracy, things of that nature. Most importantly, he’d been one of the few able to talk Yuuri down whenever his anxiety got the best of him. Normally, a few minutes of chatting with Celestino had been enough to get Yuuri’s head back on straight.

                But there hadn’t been anything at stake back then. He had his entire province to think about now, and how _he_ would be seen by the people who’d soon be his peers. So, as Yakov Feltsman—standing in for the prince—called the meeting to order and Celestino gave him some encouragements he didn’t quite hear, he sucked in a breath as he made his way to his seat.

                Like the last time he’d sat in on a Senate meeting, it was long and boring. Taxes and territories and propositions and refusals…if it weren’t for his nerves keeping him hyperaware, he likely would have fallen asleep. But he sat at rapt attention as each province gave their annual update, fiddling with his spectacles beneath the table as he went over what he had to say.

                  _Our recent census has shown that Sagashima has seen a 12-percent increase of funding…_ No, that wasn’t it. _Our recent census has shown that Hasetsu—_ No, Sagashima!— _that Sagashima has seen a 12-percent increase in population in the past year. As a growing part of Sagashim—_ as a growing part of _the kingdom_ —I _think…_

                His thoughts stopped as the doors opened, and he stiffened as he saw a glint of silver in the corner of his eye. The whole Senate abruptly got up and bowed, Yuuri included. This time, he kept his face firmly down, not daring to chance meeting Victor’s gaze, not when he was this nervous. Though, as the Senate collectively sat back down, Yuuri’s eyes moved of their own volition. He couldn’t see terribly well with his glasses off, but it looked as though the prince was having a very quiet argument with his advisor. After a moment, Victor tilted his head back with an obvious sigh, then turned back to the Senate.

                “Forgive my intrusion,” Victor said, then gracefully took a seat beside Feltsman. “Please, continue. Yakov tells me we were at Sagashima.”

                _WHAT?!_

                How had they gotten to Sagashima so quickly? Weren’t there at least five other provinces to go before they got to him? Yuuri’s heart hammered in his chest as he realized all eyes were on him. Even with his blurred vision, he caught Victor’s blue eyes resting on him expectantly.

                With a sharp breath, he rose stiffly to his feet. He fumbled with his notes before putting on his glasses to read them. His palms were growing sweaty. His legs felt like jelly. He could do this, _he could do this._

                “W-we…er, o-our…Sa-sagash-shima…”

                Yuuri’s mind went completely blank. A high-pitched sound rose up in his ears, drowning out his carefully planned report. He couldn’t do this. Everyone was staring at him. He was failing.

He was a _failure._

                It felt like he was in a nightmare, standing frozen in silence as the entirety of the kingdom’s ruling class stared at him. After what felt like hours, Feltsman finally gave a cough.

                “If the Earl has nothing to report, then let us move on.”

                Numbly, Yuuri took a seat. His whole body was shaking. He just had one thing, just _one thing_ to do. And he’d failed miserably at it. _Right in front of Victor Nikiforov._

                Despite his best efforts not to, he darted a glance Victor’s way. Despite the Senate moving on to the next province, his blue eyes were still fixed on Yuuri. Probably thinking about what a complete wreck he was. It was all he could do to keep from running right out of the Senate hall then and there.

                The moment the meeting was adjourned, though, he shot out of the room as quickly as he could. He wanted to hide away until it was time for his next boat out. Well, honestly, he wanted to just melt right into the floor and disappear forever, but that wasn’t exactly a viable option. Hiding would have to do.

                “Hey! Sagashima!”

                Yuuri froze in the hall, recognizing the accented voice. Stiffly, slowly, he turned around to face Prince Victor Nikiforov.

                Oh, _god_ , he was even more beautiful than he’d been before. His shoulders had broadened in the years since they’d last met; his long hair had been cut short—that was a recent development, since the last official portrait of him had still had long hair. But those bright blue eyes were just the same.

                As Yuuri stared up at him, every daydream he’d had came crashing back at once. This isn’t how he wanted their second meeting to happen. He clenched his jaw hard as he felt his eyes sting, and he abruptly bowed.

                “I’m sorry, your highness!” Once he’d gotten those words out, he turned and made his way as quickly as he could back to the palace. Maybe it was rude. Maybe it was against court protocol.

                But Yuuri didn’t care. He’d already failed enough. Things couldn’t get any worse.

~

                “You know, you could just say no.”

                Yuuri jumped, crumpling a dress shirt in his hands as his sister spoke. He turned to look back at Mari with a frown.

                “Would you have been able to?”

                She shrugged and leaned in the doorway. “I wouldn’t mind being queen. Especially not with a Nikiforov as my husband. But that’s me, not you. You’re obviously bothered by it.”

                Yuuri huffed as he stuck the shirt in his bag, refusing to answer. A majority of his things would be shipped out over the next few weeks; he just needed to bring what he immediately needed. That was…a little helpful. For the first time since the betrothal two weeks ago, he’d had something else to focus on rather than the fact that he was marrying Victor Nikiforov in less than three months.

                Mari sighed, sinking lower in the doorway. “See? You’re bothered. If it’s this bad, you should have…”

                “And how am I supposed to say no to the _prince_ , Mari?” Yuuri snapped. Mari blinked, and he stood up straight, surprised at his own outburst. He sighed, twisting a tie in his hands. “I-I’m sorry. This whole thing’s just stressed me out and…” He sat down on his bed, letting his head droop. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what I want. It’s for the good of the kingdom, and it should be good for Hasetsu and Sagashima, too. And you saw how pleased our parents were.”

                “Yeah, because they know you’ve had a crush on the prince for years. They think you’re happy about it.”

                Yuuri pressed his lips together, looking out the window. “I feel like I should be. But…I wish it was different.” He sighed again and shook his head. “But it’s my duty, and I know better than to shy from it.”

                Mari crossed her arms, watching her little brother for a long few moments. But finally, she shrugged.

                “Well. If it’s what you choose to do, I can’t stop you.” She started to leave, then paused and turned her head back to look at him. “Hey, Mom’s getting a kimono made for your wedding. I think she and Dad would like to see you in it.”

                Yuuri managed a mirthless laugh. “It’s already probably been decided what I’ll wear.”

                “Yeah, but…if you go through with it, see if you can nudge them into letting you wear it.”

                He sighed as he stood up. “I’ll see what I can do. Good night, Mari.” He began packing again, once again focusing hard on what he was bringing and how to pack it.

                Not a full day later, he was on a boat leaving Hasetsu’s harbor, waving to his family and subjects as he set off to formally meet his betrothed. Once they were out of sight, he leaned against the railing of the boat, watching his island grow smaller and smaller.

                Mari was right in a sense. He _had_ been smitten by Victor since he was young. And really, while he’d never let himself fully entertain the thought, there had been a tiny inkling of hope that one day they _would_ fall in love and marry. But after a relationship. After Yuuri had proven himself. Not from something as impersonal as this.

                But what could he do? He had a duty, and he would see it through.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sagashima is literally shoving "Saga Prefecture" with the word for "island," it's not creative.
> 
> *Bellezza is the name for an alternate Venice from the "Stravaganza" series by Mary Hoffman. Again, no creativity on my part.
> 
> *Naming kingdoms is for losers.
> 
> *HOPE YOU WANTED A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC LAUREN BECAUSE THIS IS ALREADY SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finally formally meets Prince Victor. He also meets the angriest Grand Duke in the kingdom.

                Yuuri couldn’t get off the boat.

                One glance outside his window was enough to see that the dock was _teeming_ with people, all of whom were no doubt trying to get a look at the soon-to-be Prince Consort. But _why_? He was just a no-name earl from an island most of them probably had no idea _existed_ , not some…some mysterious _royal_ sweeping in and taking over the kingdom _._

                No.

                Wait.

                Word must have gotten out about last year’s disaster. They were here to judge him. To try and find out why the prince would choose such a wreck to be his husband. Well, the joke was on them, because _Yuuri didn’t know, either._

                Just as he was planning to stay on the boat until either the crowd dispersed or he died (whichever came first), there was a quick knock on the door. He swallowed as he heard a crisp voice on the other side call, “Lord Katsuki?”

                Well. Time to face the wolves, then. Yuuri took a deep breath, then took his bag. “Yes, come in.”

                The door opened, and a man in a driver’s uniform stepped into the room. “I’ve come to transport you to the palace. His Highness has arranged a plan to get you there with as little attention as possible.”

                Yuuri stared at the driver, surprised. Did Victor know he was bad with attention? Well, probably, if he even vaguely remembered the year before. Still…it was nice of him. He took his bag with a small smile.

                “All right, then. Let’s go.”

~

                “…this was supposed to keep us from being noticed?”

                “The prince doesn’t always think through his plans.”

                Yuuri and the driver were currently in a rowboat, with the driver rowing as fast as he could away from the ship. Not that they were actually going _fast_. Yuuri huddled under the thick blanket he’d been given as the crowd from the dock eagerly followed the rowboat on the shoreline, sending out a roar of excited shouting toward them. He broke his gaze from the crowd to the driver, who was puffing hard as he rowed.

                “Do you want me to take over?”

                “ _No._ This is my job, my lord. You just…” He paused and panted for a few minutes, then resumed rowing. “You just sit back and enjoy.”

                Yuuri pressed his lips together, but quietly sat back. “I didn’t know winter came this early on the mainland.”

                “Well, we _are_ farther north than Sagashima, my lord.” The driver puffed again. “Works out for me. His Highness wanted me to row you up the river, but it’s already frozen. We’ll be taking a carriage once we get to shore in a few minutes.”

                Victor’s plan did have at least one benefit: the crowd got bored keeping up with the rowboat. So, by the time they finally reached the carriage, the two of them were alone save for a couple particularly determined stragglers. Regardless, Yuuri was bundled inside, and then it was off to the palace.

                As the carriage clattered along, Yuuri looked outside at what would be his new home. It was already growing dark, and the way they took to the palace was indeed removed from the main streets of the Capitol. The buildings were dark, architecture obscured by the growing shadows of the evening, and the area was quiet. Yuuri could almost pretend he was back in Hasetsu.

                The illusion was broken, though, as they came up to the palace. For the moment, Yuuri forgot his fears and disappointments; all of his thoughts were struck away as he saw the beautiful building with golden light filtering out through every grand window. In the day, it was a stunning testament to the kingdom’s rich history, but at night…at night, it was like the entrance to another world.

                The driver slowed the carriage, shushing the horse as it knickered. Yuuri started to open the door, but stopped as it seemed to open on its own. He peeked his head out, coming nearly nose to nose with the manservant who held the door open.

                “Lord Katsuki.” The manservant bowed his head respectfully as Yuuri stepped out. “Welcome to the palace. If I could take your things?”

                “Er…sure. Um, I mean, thank you.” Yuuri dipped his head in thanks, then handed the manservant his bag. He looked at it curiously, then back up at Yuuri.

                “Is the rest on the other side? Or in another carriage?”

                Yuuri blinked. “Well, I was only told to bring two weeks-worth of clothes. Be-before the rest of my things come in.”

                “So this is all you brought?”

                “Yes?”

                “Hm.” The manservant bowed again. “Well. I’ll take your bag to your quarters, then.”

                “Uh, thanks.” Yuuri watched the manservant dart out, then jumped as another one appeared at his arm.

                “I’ll show you in, Lord Katsuki,” the second manservant said. “The prince is awaiting your arrival.”

                Yuuri swallowed. Of course he was. Even in the limited times they’d seen each other, Victor had always shown that he was a gracious host. He certainly wouldn’t let his fiancé come in without a welcome.

                “I…uh, good. I’d like…I’d like to give him my thanks for his generous proposal.”

                The manservant nodded, then guided Yuuri into the palace. Like the other two times he had visited, it took all of Yuuri’s willpower not to gape at the carved doorways, the giant portraits, the delicate light sconces. The palace really was like something straight out of a dream; he just wished it was a slightly better one.

                Finally, they reached a set of large, heavy doors. The manservant gave a nod to the two doormen, who slowly began to open the door. Yuuri stood up straight, adjusting his spectacles with a deep breath. This was it. Time to see his betrothed face to face. The doors opened…

                …and Yuuri was promptly knocked to the floor by a barking brown blur.

                There wasn’t any time to be shocked, though, because less than a moment later, the dog was sniffing him eagerly, tail wagging. He started to get up, only to fall back and laugh as the dog started to lick him.

                “Makkachin!”

                Yuuri finally pushed himself up, still holding on to the dog, and he froze as he realized it was _the prince_ who had called out. He looked up with wide eyes as Victor—still just as absolutely breath-taking as he’d been a year before—stood over him. He quickly scrambled to his feet.

                “I-I’m sorry, Your Highness, I…”

                “No, no. I should have kept a better grip on her. She gets excited when new people come to the palace.” Victor grinned as he leaned down to give Makkachin a quick rub. “But now I know for sure that you were the right choice. He has your approval, doesn’t he, Makka?”

                Makkachin gave a bark in reply, and Yuuri managed a small smile before Victor stood up straight.

                “But I’m forgetting my manners! Welcome, Katsuki Yuuri, to your new home!”

                Yuuri looked up in surprise as he heard a small smattering of applause, and he stiffened as he saw Yakov Feltsman, a few barons he vaguely remembered from the year before, and a scattered group of other various probably-important people in the ballroom he’d entered. All of whom had seen him act like an idiot with Makkachin. He stiffened even more as he felt Victor slip an arm over his shoulders. He looked up at him as Victor tilted his head with a wink.

                “My plan was foolproof, wasn’t it? I bet no one saw you at all.”

                “Um. A-absolutely, Your Highness.”

                Victor tsked at him, pulling his arm way to wag a finger back and forth. “No. Don’t call me that.”

                “Wha—?”

                “You should call me Victor! We’re engaged, so it’s only right if we address each other by our given names.”

                Yuuri stared at him, then let his glance slide over to the others in the room. None of them looked too happy with the scene unfolding in front of them; a tiny vein appeared to be throbbing in Feltsman’s forehead. They knew this was a mistake, that Yuuri didn’t belong here. They…

                “Don’t you agree, Yuuri?”

                He blinked as Victor said his name carefully, taking care to pronounce it with the Sagashima accent. He looked up at the prince, a few butterflies in his stomach dusting off their wings as he met those bright blue eyes.

                “I…I guess you’re right. Victor.” Victor’s face split into a wide grin as Yuuri said his name, nearly making him melt in place. But _wait!_ He was forgetting protocol! He quickly bowed. “And thank you for choosing me as your betrothed! I…it is an incredible honor to be…”

                “Ah, we can do the pleasantries later.” Once again, Victor had an arm around Yuuri, guiding him inside as Makkachin trotted beside them. “For now, we can get our welcome celebration started! We thought you’d be here sooner, but I heard you couldn’t use the river? That was a shame. But that means you and I have being late in common now! I’m sorry I couldn’t organize anything bigger, but we still have a full orchestra and champagne and…”

                Yuuri was sure that Victor continued talking, but he couldn’t hear him over the static that started building in his head. He had become all too aware of all the eyes on him, appraising him. Probably wondering why Victor chose a dime-a-dozen earl from a tiny province instead of the throngs of royals that were much more to the prince’s caliber. His clothes were rumpled from the journey and Makkachin. Did he track mud from the river in? Oh, god, he looked like a wreck and no doubt this was going to reflect badly on Sagashima and then word would get out that the new Prince Consort was a disaster and the kingdom would face a decline in tourism and trade and then a war would probably happen and it’d all be because Yuuri didn’t think to wipe his shoes before coming in to the—

                “Yuuri?”

                Yuuri gasped as Victor’s voice pulled him out from his thoughts, and he looked up at the prince with wide eyes.

                “I…I’m sorry, Your Hi… _Victor._ But I…I’m exhausted from the journey, and…and I think I-I’d like to retire for the night.”

                The disappointment was clear on Victor’s face, but only for a moment. He gave Yuuri a smile.

                “Of course! It’s a long journey, isn’t it? I’ll show you…” Victor looked up as Feltsman cleared his throat loudly, then sighed. “I’ll have _someone_ _else_ show you to your rooms.” He pulled his arm away and looked around, finger pressed to his lips. “Georgi!”

                One young man close to Yuuri’s age looked up, his dark hair bouncing in its intricate style.

                “Show Yuuri to the North Wing. He’s in the Blue Suite.”

                Georgi knelt his head respectfully, then walked up to Yuuri. “If you’ll follow me, Lord Katsuki.”

                Yuuri followed Georgi out quietly, just barely holding back a sigh of relief as he didn’t have to greet anyone or pretend he actually was happy to be there. As they walked through the massive halls, Georgi turned his head back to look at him.

                “So you really are engaged to Prince Victor?”

                Yuuri pressed his lips together before nodding resolutely. Might as well look confident, even if he couldn’t fake being pleased.

                “I was engaged once.”

                Yuuri’s faux-confidence mask dropped, replaced by slightly sympathetic confusion. “Oh?”

                Georgi nodded, a pained look crossing his face. “To my darling Anya. She was beautiful and kind and…and now she’s gone.” He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbed at his eyes.

                “I’m so sorr—”

                “Gone to a _marquess!_ As if she doesn’t know that having a greater title means _nothing_ if there’s no love!” Georgi stopped, posing resolutely. “But I won’t give up! I’ll get my Anya to see reason, and _we’ll_ be the truly happiest couple in the kingdom!”

                Yuuri felt a bit of violent discomfort creeping up in him, and he pointed to a blue door. “Is…um, Is that the Blue Room?”

                “What? Oh, yes.” Georgi walked forward and tucked the handkerchief away before opening the door. He knelt his head as Yuuri walked in. “It was a pleasure, Lord Katsuki.”

                “Er…yes, likewise. Thank you.” Yuuri entered the room quickly and started to close the door, only for Georgi to slam his hand against the door to stop it.

                “Don’t let love slip away, Katsuki,” he whispered, eyes wide and still watery. “It is _all we have._ ”

                “I’ll…keep that in mind. Thank you!” Yuuri quickly shut the door, then leaned against it and sighed. Less than an hour in the court and it was already madness. How was he going to survive this?

                He walked into the room slowly, looking around. “Blue Room” was an apt name, considering everything inside seemed to be some shade of blue. Midnight blue carpet, sky blue wallpaper, blue paint on the bedframe and blue silk hangings on the window. Just…a lot of blue.

                The one bit of not-blue came from his gray silk pajamas, carefully laid out on the bed. Well, that was nice of whichever manservant did that. He shut his eyes and leaned against one of the bedposts. The silence was nice. He finally had a moment to just _breathe._ In and out, in…and out. A bath would be nice. The bed looked outrageously comfortable. He had the rest of the night to himself, so he could get his head sorted.

                As he headed to the ensuite bathroom, he heard the door open.

                “Good evening, Lord Katsuki.”

                He whirled around, only to find two maids entering. They both quickly curtsied.

                “His Highness thought you might like a bath once you arrived,” one said. “We’re here to help you draw it and undress.”

                Yuuri stared. When he didn’t respond, one headed straight to the bathroom while the other quickly went up to him and started pulling off his coat.

                “Hey, stop! It’s fine, I don’t…”

                “Please, Lord Katsuki, I’ll need you to relax,” the second maid said, tugging on his coat. “This material will crease if you struggle too hard.”

                “I can take off my own clothes!” He looked up as he heard the water start in the bathroom. “Really, you don’t need to do this.”

                “We were instructed by Prince Victor…”

                Yuuri finally pulled himself away from the second maid, now-tangled up in his coat. “But I really don’t need it,” he said, working to pull his arms free.

                The first maid poked her head out. “Are you dismissing us, Lord Katsuki?”

                “ _Yes!_ I mean, yes, I am. I-it’s appreciated, but I’m fine. Thank you.”

                The first maid looked to the second maid, who shrugged. They both curtsied again.

                “Very well, Lord Katsuki,” they said in unison, then took their leave.

                Yuuri waited until they left the room, then let out a sigh of relief as he got his coat off. All right. _Now_ he was alone. He headed to the armoire to hang up his coat, but froze as the door opened again.

                “Good evening, Lord Katsuki.”

                He twisted around, brows creased. A young man in plain clothes held up a few metal tools.

                “I’m here to stoke your fire, sir. His Highness says you might not be used to the cold.”

                Yuuri frowned, looking over at the already blazing fire in the fireplace. “I think it’s fine. Thanks.”

                “But His Highness said…”

                “And it’s very kind of him, but you’re, uh, dismissed. Thank you.”

                The young man blinked, but then bowed. “Very well, Lord Katsuki.” He left, and Yuuri sagged. Okay. _Now_ he was…

                “Good evening, Lord Katsuki.”

                _God damn it._

                An elegant-looking man in a black suit bowed. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Belyakov, and I’ll be your personal valet. Now if…” Belyakov was interrupted by Yuuri pushing him back to the door.

                “I’m fine! You’re dismissed! Please just leave me alone!”

                “But His Highn—“

                “ _You’re dimissed!_ ”

                “Very well, Lord…”

                Yuuri shut the door and turned the heavy lock. He leaned against it, taking a few more deep breaths. Societal expectations be damned, he wasn’t about to have a bunch of strangers around him at all hours. He’d have enough of that outside of his rooms.

                Finally, once he was sure that no one else would come in, he _finally_ was able to take his bath. It was no hot spring, no, but a few minutes after sinking into the steaming water, he felt the tension in his body start to slip away. He did his best to scrub away the stress from the day; he wasn’t completely relaxed by the time he got out, no, but he wasn’t wound so tightly that he wouldn’t sleep, at least.

                So, clean, relaxed, and in his pajamas, Yuuri finally settled down into the bed. He’d deal with whatever came tomorrow, but now…

                A knock came at the door. Yuuri waited, hoping whoever at the door would leave. The knock came again. Yuuri continued waiting. There was a pause.

                Then there was a flurry of knocks.

                He sighed, slipping out from underneath the covers to unlock the door. He opened it a crack, just enough to poke his face out. Victor was smiling back at him.

                “I was thinking, you might be lonely staying in a strange place all by yourself. So why don’t we sleep together? I mean, we are about to be married and…”

                Yuuri shut the door.

                Then he gasped in horror at what he’d done.

                He threw open the door, catching sight Victor’s surprised face, and yammered out, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ve just…the stress is really getting to me and I…I just need some sleep and I’ll be able to…I mean, if you want you can…I can’t really say no, but…I just…I mean…respectfully…”

                He trailed off as something pressed against his legs and entered the room. He looked down, catching Makkachin wag her tail before hopping on the bed and laying down. He turned back as he heard Victor chuckle.

                “Well, looks like you’ll have a bedmate after all. And she’s much harder to kick out than me,” the prince said with a wink.

                “I wasn’t, I mean, I didn’t…” Yuuri quieted as Victor took his hand and lightly kissed it. For a split second, Yuuri thought he was having a heart attack from the way it fluttered in his chest.

                “Will you at least join me for breakfast tomorrow, Yuuri?”

                Yuuri let out a slow breath. “Of course.”

                “Perfect! Then I’ll see you in a few hours.” Victor stood up straight and smiled at Yuuri. Well, at least he didn’t seem too disappointed. “Good night, Yuuri.”

                “Good night, Your… _Victor._ ”

                Victor took the door to shut it, but called over his shoulder, “And don’t be surprised if you wake up on the floor. Makkachin gets selfish with the bed sometimes.”

                The door shut, and Yuuri let out a breath. He flexed his hand, still very aware of where Victor’s lips had touched his knuckles, then turned back to the bed. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Makkachin wag her tail at him.

                “You’re the most helpful person I’ve met today,” he said as he settled in bed beside her, rubbing her head and scratching her ears. She gave a little huff of contentment as she stretched out next to Yuuri, and he smiled before blowing out the lamp beside him and settling down beside her.

                “Let’s see if tomorrow’s easier, Makkachin.”

~

                Yuuri overslept, and now he was panicking.

                He should have figured out how to set the alarm—he was prone to sleeping late, after all—and no doubt he’d missed meeting Victor for breakfast. What would this be, a bad fourth impression? For all the years of wanting to prove himself to Victor, he seemed to only be good at proving that he was a complete fool.

                He ran down to the dining room, Makkachin galloping alongside him as if it were a game. He skidded to a halt in front of the doors, buttoning up his coat and taking a breath before stepping in. To his surprise, Victor was still seated at the table. How long had he been there? Yuuri quickly bowed.

                “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t think to set an alarm and I should have known better but…”

                “ _Yuuri_.”

                Yuuri swallowed and stood up straight. Victor stared at him seriously. Was he angry? Annoyed? Both? Probably both. He braced himself for a reprimand about wasting the Prince’s time.

                “What have I said about calling me ‘Your Highness’?”

                Yuuri blinked. Victor smiled and relaxed in his seat, gesturing to the seat beside him. Yuuri nodded and walked over; an attendant pulled the seat out for him.

                “I’m sorry, Victor.”

                “You apologize a lot.”

                “I’m sor…” Yuuri caught himself, and Victor laughed as a few other attendants brought out a mass of dishes, alternating serving between the two men.

                “Did Makka end up pushing you out? I wake up on the floor half the time she sleeps in my bed,” Victor said, patting the dog’s fluffy head as an attendant poured tea beside him. Yuuri shook his head.

                “No, she was wonderful.” He smiled a bit. “She reminds me of my dog.”

                “You have a dog?” Victor’s face lit up.

                “Yes. Well, I did. He looked like a much smaller version of Makkachin.” Best not to say that he’d deliberately copied Victor in that sense. He was already zero-for-four in terms of good impressions.

                “What was his name?”

                Well, looked like it’d be zero-for-five. “We called him Vicchan.” He quickly took a bite of a thin pancake with berries to avoid explaining the name, eyes widening as the taste hit him. Whether it was because it really was that delicious or simply because he hadn’t eaten since getting off the boat didn’t matter; it was one of the best things he’d ever eaten.

                Apparently his pleasure was evident as he ate, because Victor beamed around his teacup. “Do you like it? I told the cooks to put out our best food for you. And if there’s anything at all you want, just let someone know.” His brow furrowed slightly, and he leaned back. As Yuuri took a drink of tea, he asked, “By the way, I heard you dismissed every servant I sent your way. Were they not to your standards? I could hire others, if you’d like.”

                Yuuri nearly choked on his tea. Oh, god, he hadn’t thought about Victor hearing about all the dismissals. He must look incredibly ungrateful. “O-oh, no. No! It was very kind of you, but…ah, well, I’m not really used to servants.”

                Victor blinked. “But you’re not a commoner.”

                “Well, no. But my father was before he married my mother. Plus, Hasetsu has a pretty small population, and my mother’s always thought it was better for the people to do work that will benefit them rather than benefiting us.” He laughed lightly as he set his teacup down. “I didn’t know how unusual that was until I started traveling.”

                “Ah, you studied abroad, yes?”

                “Yeah. I mostly stayed in Bellezza, but…” Yuuri stopped, feeling his cheeks pink. “I’m sorry, I must be boring you.”

                “Not at all!” Victor leaned forward with a smile, eyes locking directly onto Yuuri’s. “We _are_ engaged, after all. We should know everything about each other.”

                Yuuri tried his best not to melt at Victor’s gaze. “I guess that makes sense.”

                “Great! So tell me, did you have any lovers in Bellezza?”

                “ _What._ ”

                “Or anywhere! Don’t tell me I stole you away from someone else.”

                Yuuri knew he was a blushing, sputtering mess. “I-I really don’t think—”

                He was cut off as the dining room door was kicked in, a black boot still in the air as the door shot back and slammed into the wall.

                “ _HEY, VICTOR!_ ”

                Yuuri just about jumped out of his skin, while Victor merely smiled.

                “Oh, look who’s joining us for breakfast,” he said brightly, as if an old friend had dropped in rather than the young man—still bundled in a frankly ridiculous amount of furs—stalking up to the table and glaring daggers at Victor. The man— _boy_ , really, he couldn’t have been older than fifteen—stood in seething silence, and Victor turned to Yuuri.

                “This is Yuri Plisetsky, Grand Duke of—”

                “ _Cut the crap, Victor!_ ” Yuri Plisetsky, Grand Duke of…somewhere snapped. He slammed a hand on the table. “You _know_ I’m next in line, and you _know_ they were planning my coronation. So then _why did you pull this marriage bullshit?_ ”

                Victor blinked, then smiled. “Did I not send you an announcement?”

                “ _No!_ ”

                “Oh, it must have slipped my mind.”

                As Yuri seemed to actively be keeping himself from imploding, Yuuri leaned over and asked, “Next in line?” Victor nodded.

                “This feisty kitten…”

                “ _I heard you call me that!”_

                “…is a cousin of mine—several times removed, but still the closest in the kingdom. Most others have married into other royal families. If I…”

                “ _When_ he messes up, the crown goes right to me,” Yuri interjected. “Even if he marries some _loser_ from _nowhere_ , I’m still next in line.” He scowled at Yuuri, lowering his voice. “And don’t think I don’t see through your game, either. You think being engaged to Victor makes you special? _Ha._ You won’t last out here. You’re just…”

                “Oh, I haven’t introduced you yet,” Victor interrupted. “This is Katsuki Yuuri, from Sagashima.” He blinked, then laughed. “And now we'll have two Yuris in the palace! We’ll have to find a way to keep your names straight.”

                Yuri’s scowl deepened. “You think _I’d_ be confused for this hick?”

                Yuuri winced at the name-calling, then looked at Victor. So was it true that Victor had been passed over? But then why have a marriage so soon? Surely Victor hadn’t been insanely smitten by Yuuri’s blanking out last year. So why…

                “You know, Yuri, if you want to join us for breakfast…”

                “ _I don’t want to eat with you!_ ”

                “Anushka made blinis.”

                “ _That won’t convince me!_ ” Yuri glared at the both of them, then stomped back out of the dining room, grabbing the door to slam it behind him. Both Yuuri and Victor sat in silence, only broken when the door slammed open again.

                “Only because Anushka made them,” Yuri snapped as he sat as far away from the other two as he could. As the attendants set up his place at the table, he glared at Victor as the prince laughed lightly at the scene.

                Yuuri glanced between the two of them, feeling strangely outside the moment. For all of Yuri’s bluster and anger, he and Victor clearly knew each other well. Betrothed or not, Yuuri was still the stranger here. He looked down at his half-finished plate, appetite ruined by the way his stomach twisted, and he quickly stood up. Victor looked up at him in alarm.

                “Where are you going?”

                Yuuri shook his head. “I just need some air,” he said quietly. “Still…still recovering after the ship.” He met Victor’s gaze. “I’ll be back in a little while, Victor.”

                He ignored the scoff from Yuri and quickly left the room. The driver yesterday had mentioned the river being frozen. Maybe checking that out would help him feel better.

~

                He’d had to ask for a coat heavy enough for the cold weather outside, but soon enough Yuuri was out in the snow. The cold air bit at his cheeks and ears, but it was surprisingly refreshing to get out into the cold. Carefully, Yuuri made his way down the palace’s grounds, stepping lightly to keep from slipping on slick patches.

He stopped every few moments to admire the way the sun, weak though it was, peeked through the clouds and made the snow-covered landscape glisten. Winter had always been his favorite season, and apparently it was quite long on the mainland. He could, at least, enjoy that part of his new life.

                Finally, he reached the river. The top was indeed frosted over—well-past being row-able. It seemed fairly thick, but Yuuri wouldn’t know unless he tested it. So, very carefully, he stepped out onto the ice. He moved slowly, not wanting to risk falling through, but kept his steps hard enough to gauge how solid the ice was.

                A few cracks popped up as he walked, but a wide swathe of the river was solid enough for normal walking. _Perfect._ Now if he could just…

                “Lord Katsuki!”

                He turned, seeing the driver from the day before on the shoreline. He seemed agitated.

                “Are you trying to commit suicide? The prince isn’t _that_ bad!”

                Yuuri shook his head as he made his way back. Even with just his boots on, he glided part of the way. “Just testing the ice. Most of it’s safe.”

                The driver sighed in relief as Yuuri reached the shore. “Well, His Highness is worried about where you’d disappeared to. Thank god I didn’t have to fish you out.”

                “Sorry.” Yuuri pressed his lips together, glancing back at the ice. “Er…Victor said to ask if I wanted anything.”

                “Do you want something, my lord?”

                Yuuri looked at the ice for a moment longer, then turned back to the driver. “Would it be too much trouble to get a pair of skates?”     

              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TECHNICALLY, if we're going with the British method of aristocracy and titles (which is what I'm using because that's the only one I know), Yuuri SHOULD be addressed as "Lord Hasetsu." But that's confusing, so he's Lord Katsuki.
> 
> *Not relevant to the plot, but Potya/Puma Tiger Scorpion exists in this AU. She has a beautiful bed that cost thousands of (fake kingdom currency). She never uses it, instead sleeping on Yurio's most expensive black cape and shedding all over it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri falls into hold hobbies to make himself more comfortable, and he welcomes a friend from another kingdom.

                “…and so that’s why we need to…Lord Katsuki, are you listening?”

                Yuuri sat up straight. “Yes, of course!” This was a lie. But really, how could he focus? The entirety of the last hour had been the Royal Planner droning on about the events that would be underway throughout the weeks leading up to the wedding. There were dinners, teas, meetings with minor officials, meetings with _major_ officials, all sandwiched between a betrothal ball and the wedding itself. Apparently being delightfully charming in public was the majority of the Consort’s role. Which, you know, _was totally great_ for Yuuri.

                The Royal Planner (did she even have a name? He’d never heard anyone say it) frowned hard at him, clearly not believing him. “Lord Katsuki, shall I remind you that you have a legacy to uphold? Her Majesty, the Queen—may she rest in peace—was _renown_ for her events. As much as Prince Victor must guide our kingdom, _you_ must make things appear effortless.”

                Like _that_ wasn’t any pressure. Yuuri knelt his head.

                “I know. I’ll keep focused, I swear.”

                The Planner huffed out a sigh and looked up. “Well, in the two minutes I have before your mind wanders again, you ought to think of who you’d like to include among your wedding party.”

                “My what?”

                “Your wedding party? Is that not something they have in Sagashima?”

                Yuuri set his jaw at the Planner’s mocking tone, but ignored the insult and thought over who he’d want with him in the days leading up to the wedding. His parents still had Sagashima to attend to, and Mari had picked up his responsibilities in Hasetsu. He had a few friends back home…but they had their own families, their own businesses—which, even though it was doing well, Hasetsu needed all the business it could keep…

                _Oh!_ Of course.

                He jotted down a name, then passed it back to the Planner, who frowned.

                “That’s it?”

                “He’s all I’ll need.”

                She sighed again, wearily, then set the paper aside. “Then let’s go over the basics of a formal tea again.”

                Oh, _god._ He couldn’t take any more of this. He already knew he was going to fail; any and all of this planning was just delaying that fact _._

                “Now, Lord Katsuki, if we know that the Duke of Sueitz—who, despite all my warnings, the Prince _will_ invite—will mortally offend the Grand Duchess of…” She looked up as Yuuri stood up, trying (and failing) to be discreet. “Are you late for an appointment, Lord Katsuki?” she asked dryly.

                Yuuri swallowed and shook his head. “Uh…no, but…

                “Then why are you trying to leave before our lesson is up?”

                “I…just need to excuse myself for a moment. I’ll be right back,” he assured, then quickly stepped out of the room.

~

                Yuuri never came back to the lesson.

                Instead, as quietly as he could, he made his way out of the palace and down to the river. He inhaled deeply as he reached the ice, cold air stinging his lungs. He really shouldn’t have done that, but he would have gone insane if he’d stayed another moment. All this talk of teas and parties and talking points was completely overwhelming; he needed something he _knew._

                So it was time to skate.

                He strapped the skates to his boots as quickly as he could without being careless, then tucked his spectacles into his coat pocket as he made his way to the frozen river. It had been a while since he’d skated, but after a few tentative pushes forward, gliding around the ice was as easy as breathing.

                Left, right, left, right. An easy turn away from the riverbank. Right, left. A slow, wide turn toward the center, arms outstretched then pulled in to help him spin…yes, _god,_ yes, this was what he needed.

                Yuuri lifted his head as he picked up speed, smiling as he turned to glide backwards. The cold air bit at him, whipping his hair around his face. He leaned to the left, easily spinning around to face forward. He gracefully lifted one leg behind him, arms stretched out easily to keep his balance, then let himself sink into another spin.

                Oh, if only things were as easy as skating.

                As he completed another lap around the ice, an idea struck him. There was something he’d only tried a few times when he was younger, on the rare occasions he’d wanted to show off. It’d resulted in a bloody nose the first time he tried, and a bruised ego several times after. But the payoff after a success had always been too great for him to stop trying.

                He skated forward, building up speed, then, with a deep breath, pushed himself off the ice. He twisted, spinning once—no, _twice!_ —in the air before landing. He wobbled, but stayed upright, and a delighted laugh bubbled out of him as he skated backwards.

                He twisted his body around with a bright smile, only to slide to a halt as he saw something on the riverbank. He squinted at it. Was it a person? It was too hard to tell from this distance. He skated up, to the bank, pulling out his glasses and putting them on. He came to a quick stop as the blur turned into Victor. For once, though, he didn’t become an apologizing wreck at the site of the prince; the huge grin on Victor’s face immediately dispelled any of his worries.

                “You skate?” Victor called as Yuuri made his way over to him.

                “When I can.” Yuuri’s breaths came out in white clouds as he laughed. “And when I need to. I could only plan out teas and dinners for so long.”

                “Of course. You know, I used to skip out on lessons, too.” Victor held out his hand to help Yuuri off the ice. Yuuri took it gratefully, looking up to thank him. His words died on his lips as he met Victor’s eyes, the curious intensity on the prince’s face making his heart jump up to his throat. For a long moment, they stood in silence. Then…

                “You are absolutely beautiful when you skate.”

                Yuuri’s eyes widened, that curious feeling of his heart filling his chest coming back. Victor tilted his head slightly, giving Yuuri a smile.

                “It’s such a shame that you’re _so_ terrible at public speaking.”

                His heart deflated, and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks and ears. “I’ll try to get better.” He pulled his hand away from Victor’s, making his way to a fallen tree to take his skates off, not looking up as Victor sat beside him.

                “Why didn’t you speak at the Senate meeting last year?”

                Yuuri froze, face heating up even more. Things had been going so _well._ He swallowed. “You remember that?”

                “It’s hard to forget.”

                Yuuri glanced up at Victor, then abruptly leaned down to unbuckle his skates. “I don’t know. I’m just…not good at speaking in front of others, I guess.”

                “No, that’s not it.”

                “What?” Yuuri’s head shot up, brows furrowing. Victor pressed a finger to his lips thoughtfully, staring hard at Yuuri.

                “People only fail that badly when they have something to prove.” Victor’s lips turned up, though that curious intensity was back in his eyes. “So, what do _you_ have to prove, Katsuki Yuuri?”

                Yuuri stared at Victor, mouth open but stuck in stunned silence. After a moment, Victor gave him another bright smile.

                “I love to skate, too,” he said, as if the previous conversation had never happened. “Could I join you next time?”

~

                Despite Victor’s request, there was no time in the next two weeks for either of them to skate. The betrothal ball was a week away, and they had about a moment each day to see each other before being pulled off to their various duties. Yuuri didn’t dare skip out on another lesson, not with the way the Royal Planner had nearly burst a vein when he’d come in the day after his skating. No, for now it seemed best to quietly go with what she instructed him—the last thing needed at the moment was her dying from an aneurysm.

                But…when a page came in to announce that the Viscount of Yím Pàen Din had arrived, Yuuri hadn’t even excused himself before rushing out of the room. He skidded to a halt in front of the suite he knew had been set up for his guest. He knocked on the door and smiled as it opened, greeting him with the bright grin of Phichit Chulanont, the aforementioned Viscount of Yím Pàen Din.

                Yím Pàen Din was part of a neighboring kingdom—an ally of theirs—and Phichit had been sent to study in Bellezza at the same time as Yuuri. They’d initially bonded over their complete cluelessness about their temporary new home, each awkwardly trying to get used to the culture and social cues, complaining about homesickness, and making jokes about Celestino—who was playing host for both of them. The sunniness of Phichit’s homeland had clearly rubbed off on him; he consistently brightened up any room he was in by sheer force of his friendliness. He’d kept Yuuri from becoming completely withdrawn in a strange new land, and Yuuri was incredibly grateful for that alone ( _and_ that Phichit edited his name out of his very long, detailed letters home, which he’d heard were regularly passed around his court. When asked why he wrote everything down, he’d replied, “Pictures are worth a thousand words, and there’s no way I can get portraits of everything! So I need a thousand words to get things just right.”)

                Phichit had barely gotten a “Hi, Yuuri!” out before Yuuri grabbed him in a tight hug. _God_ , it was nice to have a friendly face besides Victor’s here.

                “I’m _so_ sorry I never wrote,” Yuuri said as he pulled out of the hug and stepped into the room. “I…things got busy.”

                “I guessed when I got the summons,” Phichit said with a smile and a shrug. He raised his eyebrows. “So…your marriage.”

                Yuuri shook his head. “Let’s…talk about that later. Tell me about Yím Pàen Din! You moved back there after I left Bellezza, right?”

                Phichit easily picked up his cue and eagerly started talking about his home, going over everything from the current situation at court (“You should _see_ the letter I was writing before I left. Let me see what I can remember from it.”) to gushing about a play that had been making the rounds in his city (“It’s about a king who marries a skater and the music just makes you want to put ice skates on immediately. Maybe it can come out this way!”) Yuuri switched easily between listening raptly and giving his own updates on Hasetsu and Sagashima. For a few hours, things were just as they had been a few years ago: two friends sitting on a bed, spending the whole day swapping stories and laughing.

                Finally, though, after a particularly funny memory of Celestino trying to wrangle the two of them in for a cotillion left them laughing to the point of tears, a silence fell between them. Phichit looked over at Yuuri, who was staring hard at the ceiling. They both knew where the conversation was going.

                “So…the prince?”

                Yuuri nodded mutely.

                “You two are really getting married?”

                Yuuri nodded again.

                “Well, congratulations! Sorry it’s so late.” At Yuuri’s silence, Phichit propped himself up with an arm to look down at him. “This… _is_ something you want, right? I mean, you were so excited the one time the prince came to Bellezza that you ended up getting too sick to meet him. I assumed you always had kind of a…thing for him.”

                Yuuri sighed and pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes. “You’re right. Well, kind of. It was definitely a _thing_. But…I’m not sure what kind of _thing_ it was, really. Or…is. I don’t know.” He pressed his lips together hard, keeping his hands over his eyes. Very softly, he admitted, “But I do know that I never wanted things to be like this.”

                Phichit’s brows drew together in concern, and he pulled himself up to sit. “Are things bad? Has he been…?”

                “ _No!_ Victor is…” How did he describe Victor? He’d only really seen him a few times, but… “He’s…he’s everything I thought he’d be. Maybe a little dramatic, but…I can’t say I’m really surprised by that. No, Victor is wonderful. It’s me.” Yuuri sighed. “Did Ciao Ciao tell you about last year?”

                Phichit made a face. “He… _might_ have mentioned it.”

                Yuuri shook his head. “So I had that failure, and then hardly even a year later, I got a summons announcing that Prince Victor Nikiforov had chosen me to be his betrothed. And now it’s all lessons on how to be a host and what the manners are on the mainland and how to…just stand around and be pretty!” He let his head fall back, eyes shut. “Everything’s just been a reminder of how terrible I am at doing anything in the court. I wish I could get out of it.”

                “Why don’t you break off the engagement? There’s still time to say no to the marriage.”

                “It’s not that easy. Then I’m the kingdom’s most ungrateful earl, and Hasetsu will probably lose all of its funding.” He sighed, staring up at the ceiling again. “I know I can be a good leader. A-and if I had more time, I could show Victor that. But that’s not what a Prince Consort does, apparently. Now I just want to show everyone that I’m not some…some stupid hick from nowhere.”

                “You def-definitely…” Phichit was interrupted by a large yawn. “Sorry. But anyway...”

                Yuuri quickly sat up. “No, no. You must be exhausted from the trip.” He smiled a bit. “I shouldn’t have kept you up so late.”

                Phichit laughed. “Give me a couple days and we can stay up all night like we used to.” As Yuuri got up, he added, “And you’re definitely not a ‘stupid hick,’ Yuuri. I’m sure Victor can see that, and everyone else will, too.” He paused as Yuuri relaxed at the validation, then added, “And if you need to talk, there’s an open ear right here.”

                Yuuri half-smiled. “And you won’t write home about what I say?”

                “If I do, it’ll be with a fake name.”

                Yuuri laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll see you soon, Phichit.”

                “Night, Yuuri.” Phichit sent him another sunny smile before Yuuri shut the door behind him.

                Well, things were still stressful. But at least he had a friend on his side now. That helped more than he thought it would.

~

                Yuuri couldn’t sleep.

                He tossed and turned after getting into bed. His brain kept jumping from manners and etiquette to his frustrations at his situation to Victor’s question about proving himself. Plus, since he had spent most of the day with Phichit, he’d missed dinner completely. A roiling mind and a rumbling stomach were definitely _not_ conducive to a good night’s sleep. So, finally throwing his covers off and shoving his feet into his slippers, he decided to fix at least one of those problems.

                He lit a candle quickly before making his way out of his room. The palace was…different when it was dark. The charming carvings in the doorways seemed sinister in the candle light, and the halls were eerily quiet when everyone had gone to bed. For all of his marveling at the palace’s beauty, Yuuri decided that he wouldn’t have wanted to grow up here. He wondered how Victor felt about it.

                It took a few tries, but Yuuri finally found the kitchen. He lit the room’s lamps, glad for the warm light, then let out a little huff as he looked around. Just something simple—bread and cheese or an apple, something that wouldn’t be too much trouble. He opened a cupboard, blinking as he was met by _kombu_ of all things. Why would they have this _here_? He dug a little further into the cupboard, laughing a bit as he found bonito flakes. These were Sagashima ingredients! Why would…

                _Victor._

                A pleasantly warm feeling filled Yuuri’s chest at the thought of Victor making sure ingredients from his home were in the pantry, and he smiled as he pulled them out. He knew they had pork, too…well, if all the ingredients were here, he might as well. Plus, actually cooking might ease some of his nervous thoughts.

                He’d managed to get the ingredients with no fuss at all. The problem came when he was pulling out his pots and pans; despite the very careful way he tugged at them, one pan fell out of the cupboard and crashed to the floor. Yuuri flinched at the noise and froze. Hopefully he was far enough away that…

                “Anushka?”

                _Damn it._

                “Don’t tell me you’re already doing breakfast preparations now! We only have one more…” The kitchen door opened, and Victor and Yuuri blinked at each other. Yuuri grimaced; Victor grinned.

                “Yuuri! What are you doing h…” He trailed off as his eyes drifted to the stack of ingredients on the table. “Are you cooking? You can cook?”

                Yuuri stood up straight and shrugged. “Well, I did say that my family didn’t have servants, and my mother wanted me to be able to eat on my own…”

                “Amazing!” The simple exclamation made Yuuri’s cheeks heat up. “What are you making?”

                “Katsudon. It’s, uh, it’s my favorite thing to eat back home.” He looked down at the pots and pans in his arms, then glanced back up at Victor. Well…it wasn’t ice skating, but maybe they could steal a few moments to themselves. “Do you…want me to teach you how to make it?”

                Victor’s eyes sparkled at the offer, and he quickly nodded, setting down the stack of papers in his hands to help Yuuri pull out the pots and pans. Yuuri gave an awkward laugh.

                “So now if the servants revolt and you’re left on your own, you’ll be able to eat. If…you have the ingredients for katsudon, at least.” At Victor’s lack of reaction, he added, “That, er, that was a joke.”

                “I know,” said Victor brightly.

                “It…wasn’t a very good one.”

                “I know,” Victor repeated, just as brightly.

                Yuuri’s cheeks went pink, and he quietly began laying out the ingredients for them. “So…we make the dashi first. Here, let me fill the pots, then we’ll put in the kombu…”

                He walked Victor through each of the steps, helping him measure out the bonito flakes and quickly jumping in to stir his pot and turn down the heat as the dashi started to boil. Then came the pork cutlets. It was surprisingly fun to guide Victor through the egg wash and breading. The prince was an eager student, doing his best to follow Yuuri’s lead exactly. They laughed as Victor accidentally coated his hand in breadcrumbs, and Yuuri hovered over his shoulder as he dropped his cutlet into a pan to fry, pulling him back slightly so hot oil didn’t splatter on him.

                As they waited for the pork to cook, Yuuri was abruptly aware at how…comfortable this was. As if it were the most natural thing in the world for him and Victor to be cooking with each other. He glanced up at Victor, who seemed very invested in making sure he didn’t overcook the pork. Even in the middle of the night, even as he stared intently at a pan of oil, he hadn’t lost that dancer’s poise that had caught Yuuri’s eye almost twelve years before. That ache returned, though now Yuuri had a better idea of what it was. He wanted to be closer to Victor, to touch him and make sure that the beautiful man in front of him was real and not something straight from a fantasy story. He pressed his lips together, eyes going straight to Victor’s hair, and he started to reach up…

                But Victor turned before he could reach any farther than his shoulder. “Am I doing all right?”

                “Oh! Um, let me see..” He flipped over the cutlet, examining both sides much more intently than normal to avoid staring at Victor’s hair again. “Yeah, see how it’s golden brown on both sides? That means it’s done. Here, let me show you how to dish it up.”

                He expertly sliced his cutlet; Victor…attempted to slice his cutlet. He praised Victor’s excellent mixing as they made the sauce and egg to go over the top. Then, with a bit of egg, a bit of seaweed, and a bowl of rice to serve it on, they were done. Yuuri’s bowl was picture perfect; Victor’s much less so.

                Yuuri smiled at their work, then held his bowl out for Victor. “Here. Let’s see how we both did.”

                Victor gave him a bright smile as they swapped bowls, and they both sat at the simple kitchen table with their bowls. Yuuri nodded to Victor. “You go first.”

Victor looked up at him, then took a bite. Immediately, his whole face lit up, making a little bubble of pride rise up in Yuuri’s chest.

                “Wow, amazing!” Victor took another bite. “Is all food in Sagashima like this? This must be what God eats.”

                Yuuri looked down at the table at the praise, a proud smile spreading across his face. “Even better. My mother makes it so much better than I do.”

                “Then we should go straight there after the wedding!”

                Yuuri laughed. “Sagashima would love that. I’ll take you to the hot springs, too…”

                “There are _hot springs?_ ”

                “You didn’t know?”

                “I haven’t been able to visit!”

                _Probably_ for the best that Yuuri didn’t mention that he’d obsessively been tracking where Victor visited before the betrothal and thus knew that Victor hadn’t visited Sagashima. So he decided to brave Victor’s katsudon instead.

                Oh, _god._

                Yuuri coughed. It was too salty and the consistency was all wrong; he had to admit, it was almost _impressive_ how badly Victor had done while following Yuuri’s careful instructions. He quickly dug to the bottom of the bowl to get a bite of rice in an attempt to cleanse his palate. Ah, but the sauce had soaked through the entire thing.

                “Is it bad?” Victor asked, watching with drawn brows as Yuuri tried not to choke.

                Yuuri coughed again, then shook his head with a laugh. “It’s _terrible._ It’s…really, _really_ terrible.” He looked up and quickly added, “But, ah, for your first try…”

                “No, I understand.” Victor shut his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to his head, faking a swoon. “If the servants revolt, I’ll be useless on my own.” He peeked an eye open to look at Yuuri. “I guess I’ll just have to look to you to keep from starving.”

                Yuuri smiled, cheeks heating. Was this flirting? This was flirting, wasn’t it? Should he flirt back? He wanted to. Now he just had to come up with something witty and…

                “Here.” Victor pushed his bowl closer to Yuuri. “We can share. You ought to eat some of your masterpiece.”

                Yuuri smiled and took a bite from the bowl, brain still whirring. Was it too late to flirt? Victor was still looking at him with warm eyes, so no, there was still time to flirt. But _how_? Yuuri had never flirted before—at least not consciously. His eyes darted around Victor’s face, looking for _something_ to go off of.

                “So, uh…why are _you_ up so late?” _Not flirting!_ Too late. Time to stick with it. “I-I hear you usually go to bed fairly early.” _Damn it._ If there was a prize for “Worst Flirt,” it would definitely go to Katsuki Yuuri, Earl of Hasetsu.

                Victor sighed, setting down his fork to tap at the stack of papers he’d set down earlier. “These. It’s all the facts and figures for the kingdom. I can’t make sense of them at all.” He pushed a hand through his hair, looking down at the scribbled notes. “I’m supposed to figure out the budget for next year. And look at all the complaints and suggestions that made it past Yakov, then decide what to make into laws or amendments or whatever it is I’m supposed to do with them.” He managed a small, wry laugh. “I swear, sometimes I can still hear my father. ‘Vitya, you should have prepared for this.’ ‘Vitya, you should have been paying attention.’ ‘You’re twenty-seven years old, Vitya, how do you not know how to do this?’” He shrugged. “Though Yakov says the same things to me, so maybe I’m just hearing him.”

                Yuuri listened Victor quietly, stomach twisting slightly. Oh, he’d been a selfish idiot. He’d never once thought that Victor would be stressed about becoming king. Even if he hadn’t wanted to be the prince’s fiancé, he shouldn’t have wrapped himself so tightly in his own anxieties. That wasn’t fair to Victor.

                But maybe he could fix that now.

                He lightly touched the papers. “Could I look?”

                Victor’s eyes flicked up to look at him, and he nodded. Yuuri took the notes and looked them over. All right, fairly straight-forward. He’d done things like this for Hasetsu before. He spread the papers out in front of him.

                “Here, let’s look at the budget. Here’s the amount of money you have in the treasury, and here’s where it’s all going now.” He pointed at the various numbers along the page. “There’s a little less than there was last year, so you need to adjust where your funds go. Like…say education. If you want to keep giving this amount of money to schools, then you’ll need to put less money toward something else.” He glanced up at Victor, who was listening intently. “Like, say…throwing less parties here at the palace.” He laughed as Victor looked actively offended at the suggestion. “I’m kidding. That’s just me trying to get out of my responsibilities.”

                “You don’t like parties?” Victor looked surprised by that, strangely enough. Yuuri shrugged.

                “Not…really? I mean, I can go to them and mostly do all right. But planning’s completely different.” He pressed his lips together, looking down. “I, uh…I heard your mother was amazing with them.”

                The corner of Victor’s mouth twitched, and he nodded. “She was the perfect hostess. It was like she sparkled once she got in front of other people. She lit up a room just by stepping inside it.”

                “You’re the same way.”

                Victor looked up with wide blue eyes, apparently surprised by something that Yuuri assumed was fact. Ever since he was young, Victor’s mere presence turned heads. Yuuri had seen the others at the Senate, heard what other people said about the prince. For every comment about him being a spendthrift or an airhead, there were five more sighing about how lovely he was and commending his poise and grace.

                Yuuri, for once, maintained eye contact with Victor after his compliment, and his lips turned up as he watched the prince’s surprised look soften into a warm one. His heart swelled comfortably in his chest, and he finally broke his gaze as he asked, as delicately as he could, “Do you miss them?”

                “Do I miss who?”

                “Your parents.”

                “Oh.” Victor’s warmth seeped away, and he suddenly seemed very interested in pushing around a bit of rice in the bowl. “Yes, of course. But…” He trailed off and shrugged. Yuuri’s brow furrowed.

                “…but?”

                Victor’s lips thinned slightly. “Well, it’s not as if I saw them so much more often before they died. The only real difference is that now I have budgets and things to take care of.”

                Yuuri looked at Victor sympathetically. He wasn’t surprised—his family, he knew, was rare in how much time they spent with each other—but even so…he hated thinking of a young Victor more or less alone in this big, empty palace.

                “Victor, if…”

                “So were you responsible for budgets and laws in Hasetsu?” Victor asked quickly. He smiled. “Was that how you got the 12-percent population increase?”

                Yuuri blinked, earlier response forgotten with Victor’s words. How had he known…oh, of course. Hiroko had probably sent the updates for Sagashima by courier. He smiled, pleased that Victor had remembered that.

                “Well, it wasn’t me _specifically._ But I’ve worked with my mother for the past few years, and things have gone fairly smoothly. So I know something about how to do it.”

                “Can you help me, then?”

                Yuuri blinked. Was he really suggesting this?

                “I’ll help you with hosting in exchange,” Victor added. “I know how to be confident in front of crowds; let’s see if I can teach you how to be the same.” He winked and held out his hand. “I won’t tell the Planner if you don’t tell Yakov.”

                A wide smile grew on Yuuri’s face, and he took Victor’s hand. “All right, I agree.”

                “Perfect.” Victor pulled Yuuri’s hand over and lightly kissed his knuckles, smiling warmly as he caught the way Yuuri’s eyes brightened. “It’s a deal, then.”

                                      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Suietz is a really, really awful portmanteau of Suisse/Schweiz/Switzerland. Three guesses as to who the Duke is and in what ways he offends the Grand Duchess (hint: there's a lot and they can't be mentioned in a General Audience story.)
> 
> *Since this is an ambiguously historical story, here's a fun fact: while the patent for skates bolted to the boot has been around since the late 1700s, most skaters would simply strap a pair of skates to their boots until fairly recently. So Yuuri's skates look something like this:  
> 
> 
> Probably not a good idea to do a double-flip in them, but this is fanfiction and so aesthetic > reality.
> 
> *The fact that they're not skaters in this AU hides my embarrassing lack of ice skating knowledge. 
> 
> *Yím Pàen Din is another terrible name. Literally just Smile-land in Google-Translated Thai. (Both because Thailand's known as "The Land of a Thousand Smiles" and because it's what I do LITERALLY ANY TIME PHICHIT IS MENTIONED.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor tries to find out what's holding Yuuri back. The obvious way to find that out is by skating.
> 
> (There's also a thawing out joke in here somewhere.)

                Victor was surprisingly _tactile._

                There was no other way for Yuuri to describe it. Certainly Victor had touched him before: an arm around his shoulders to guide him, kisses to his knuckles that made him melt. Things that any fiancé would do, really.

                But, in the two late-night teaching sessions they’d had, things were different. As Yuuri would explain writing out laws or how to assign responsibilities to a committee, Victor would find ways to touch him. Resting his arm on Yuuri’s shoulder as he listened, leaning against him to read what Yuuri had written, brushing his arm against Yuuri’s side as he scribbled down a few notes; none of them seemed particularly romantic, and he wasn’t sure that Victor even knew that he was doing it. He was tempted to mention it, but always decided against it. Part of him thought that it might just be the way that Victor learned best. Another part was certain that mentioning it might dredge up lonely childhood memories.

                A final part—the biggest and most selfish part of him—was worried that Victor would stop if it was brought up.

                Regardless of how pleasantly distracting the touching was for Yuuri, Victor’s attention remained firmly on Yuuri’s words. Two days wasn’t enough time to see any major progress, but Victor was an eager student. With some time, he’d be able to manage affairs with the best of them.

                Now, if only Yuuri had the same promise when it came to hosting.

                “Does your face always get like that when you’re nervous?” Victor asked after Yuuri practically shouted some small talk at him.

                “What?”

                Victor waved his hand, dismissing his question. “You get so tense when you’re under pressure.”

                “Sorry…”

                “And you have no confidence in yourself.”

                Yuuri’s face burned at the blunt criticism. “I already knew that.”

                “Why?”

                He blinked, surprised at the question. He’d…never thought about that, actually. “I just…I know I’ll fail. My mind will go blank or…or I’ll panic and embarrass myself.” He glanced up at Victor. “And then I’ll embarrass you. Or Sagashima. Or maybe the entire kingdom.”

                Victor’s lips thinned, fair brows drawn slightly together as he focused on Yuuri. “So how can I help with that?”

                Yuuri gave a humorless laugh. “Stop being the future king?”

                “Okay,” Victor said readily.

                He blinked. “Wait, what?”

                “I’ll be whatever you need me to be. After all, I was always told that a good king needs to be willing to change to meet the needs of his people, and I should at least be able to do that for my fiancé.” Victor leaned forward, meeting Yuuri’s eyes intently. “So what do you need, Yuuri? Not a king. Maybe a mentor? Or just a lover? A father-figure?”

                “ _Definitely_ not the last one.” Yuuri broke their gaze, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. If he couldn’t even keep himself from overthinking, how could he tell someone else how to fix him? “Well, I…” He turned as the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed twice. _Thank god._ “I-it’s late. I think we should stop for now,” he said quickly as he started to get up.

                “ _Yuuri_.” Victor didn’t move, blue eyes still focused hard on him.

                Yuuri winced as he sat back down.  “I…I don’t know where to start,” he admitted quietly, keeping his eyes down. His brow furrowed as he watched Victor’s hands rest over his own, then looked up to meet bright blue, smiling eyes.

                “Then we’ll find a way together.”

                Yuuri’s expression softened, and he turned his hands over to grip Victor’s. For a moment, he sat in silence, holding on to Victor’s hand like a lifeline. Finally, he swallowed. “Do you honestly think you can make me stop…being like this?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

                For a moment, Victor’s gaze turned sharp—Yuuri had seen this face enough times now to know he was thinking. After a long moment, he thawed and gave him a warm smile.

                “I hope so,” was all he said before he slipped his hands from Yuuri’s grip. “You’re right, though. It _is_ late. We should probably head to bed.” He stood up and, with a cheerful “Good night, Yuuri!”, he exited the kitchen. Yuuri stared after him for a moment, then sank down in his chair with a huff.

                _Well._

                That didn’t help at all.

~

                The next morning came, and with it another appointment with the Royal Planner. The Betrothal Ball was only five days away, and she had spent the past few appointments openly despairing over what a disaster it would be. Yuuri couldn’t help but agree with her; as last night showed, he had no idea how to start being the host he was supposed to be. Everyone would think Victor made a mistake. Maybe he had. Maybe this was one great, big joke being played on him. Some no-name earl winning the prince’s heart, _ha._

                As he walked to the ballroom to meet the Royal Planner, he let himself stew in his anxieties. After all, they would only get worse once he was inside; if he beat himself into numbness, then maybe he could keep himself from getting too worked up from how much he was failing. He just had to…

                Yuuri let out a yelp as his arm was roughly grabbed, whipping him around so hard his glasses nearly flew off his face.

                “Quickly, Yuuri, come on!”

                Yuuri just barely stayed on his feet as he was tugged forward, free hand gripping his glasses as they ran down the hallway. “Hey, wait! What…” He re-adjusted his glasses as his kidnapper whirled around, blue eyes bright as he pressed a finger to his lips. “Vic—?”

                “Shh!” Victor grinned at him and held up two pairs of skates. “We’re playing hooky today.”

                “We’re playing…wait, are your skates gold-pla—”

                “Quick, Yuuri! Before they find out we’re gone!” Immediately Victor pulled him forward again. Yuuri followed willingly this time, unable to fight off a smile as the prince pulled him out the servant’s entrance. This was ridiculous. Of course everyone would know they were gone. Still, Victor’s excitement was nothing if not contagious.

                Even when they got outside, Victor didn’t let go of Yuuri’s wrist as he ran down toward the frozen lake. His breath came out in clouds as he encouraged Yuuri to hurry, matching the white puffs of Yuuri’s laughs. Finally, once they reached the edge of the ice, Victor stopped and released his fiancé. He held out Yuuri’s skates with a grin as the other man laughed.

                “What _was_ that?”

                “Us playing hooky.”

                “But why?” Yuuri kept his grin up as Victor leaned in, trying to fight off a giggle at the prince’s suddenly-very-serious look.

                “Because I still haven’t gotten to skate with you, and _that_ , Lord Katsuki, is a _tragedy_.” He took Yuuri’s wrist again, this time pulling him down to sit beside him on a downed tree. “Now, come on. It’s cruel to keep me waiting any longer.”

                Yuuri laughed again, but did what he was told. He glanced over at Victor with a smile as he buckled his skates to his shoes, heart warming at Victor’s obvious excitement. There was something refreshing in Victor being an open book, even with his sometimes-too-blunt criticisms. Certainly there was plenty Yuuri still didn’t know about the prince, but his thoughts were almost always loud and clear.

                Victor quickly got to his feet and headed to the river. Yuuri followed, tucking his glasses into his coat pocket before sliding onto the ice. Once again, he instantly felt his tensions melt away as he did a few easy circles around the ice. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, lungs prickling and cheeks stinging in the most lovely way. He could hear Victor’s skates gliding nearby. Left, right, left, right…a figure-eight…if he focused, he could probably skate in time with him. Yuuri opened his eyes to turn and push himself backwards. Oh, he should do another jump; he was fairly certain Victor had seen last time, but what if he hadn’t? He smiled to himself as he turned again and started to skate faster. He turned his head with bright eyes, about to call for Victor to look, but he instead slowed to a stop as he saw the other man skate.

                Victor was…like something out of a dream.

                He was always like that, yes, but on the ice, something _changed._ He was Grace personified. The dancer’s poise Yuuri had always admired was on full display as Victor pushed and pulled himself across the ice, body dipping and rising as if to some song Yuuri couldn’t hear. His shoulders sank and his chin lifted, pale skin stretching delicately over the bones and muscles of his throat. He threw himself into a spin, then immediately pulled himself out and raised one leg behind him as if it were the easiest thing in the world. A long glide near the bank of the river, and then a sharp push backward to do the same in reverse. His hair blew into his face, nearly—but not quite—obstructing the small, satisfied smile on his face.

                Yuuri couldn’t pull his eyes away. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

                If he had his way, he would have spent the rest of the day watching Victor skate, hanging on to every breath and turn of his head. But he abruptly pulled himself out of his reverie when he realized Victor was getting far too close to the thinner part of the ice.

                “Victor!” Firmly back in his body, Yuuri pushed himself forward, just barely catching Victor’s hand to stop him from going further. Victor looked up at him in surprise, as if he’d just been woken from a dream, then down to the ice as a small crack bit through the silence. Yuuri quickly pulled him back.

                “I should have told you, the ice there is…” Yuuri trailed off as Victor gave him a dreamy smile before pulling both of them back to the more solid ice. Once back in the center, he let go of his hand, a curious look on his face as he drifted back.

                _Skate with me_ , his smile said as he pulled away from Yuuri. _Try to keep up with me_ , added the toss of his head, silver hair glinting in the pale winter light. _Show me you love this as much as I do_ , finished his eyes, the bright blue fixing on Yuuri for only a moment before Victor turned again.

                How could Yuuri possibly resist a challenge like that?

                He skated around Victor, trying fall into sync with him. Victor moved left, Yuuri moved right; Victor pushed back, Yuuri moved forward. As Victor circled clockwise, Yuuri went the opposite way; they crossed, close enough for the clouds of their breath to mingle before momentum pulled them away. They fell into a rhythm, a silent song guiding the way they danced around each other. In, then out; apart, then close. As Victor reached out, Yuuri did the same—a brush of the fingers to encourage their game before they both pulled back. Yuuri pushed himself into a spin, and Victor mimicked him. Again they drew close. This time, Yuuri’s hand closed around Victor’s, dark eyes locked onto bright blue ones as they spun in the center of the ice.

                Time slowed. With Victor this close, Yuuri could see every bit of his face in detail. His nose and ears were rosy from the cold. A light sheen of sweat added shine to his cheekbones and stuck a few strands of hair to his forehead. The hollow of his throat fluttered with his pulse, and there was the smallest ring of green around his widening pupils.

                Yuuri desperately wanted to kiss him. From what he could tell, Victor wanted the same.

                But how did he do that?

                Yuuri’s heart quickened, and all at once, his brain woke up. Did he just lean in and hope for the best? What if Victor actually _didn’t_ want to be kissed? And anyway, was Yuuri _really_ sure that he wanted to kiss Victor? Sure, he was the most beautiful Yuuri had ever seen him, but there was still so much he didn’t know and surely one skating session wasn’t enough to…

                A strong hand cupped Yuuri’s cheek, pulling him out of his thoughts. A soft kiss to his forehead promptly got his thoughts to stop altogether.

                “Let’s take a break.” Victor’s voice had a touch of breathlessness in it—from fatigue or from their moment, Yuuri didn’t know. He pulled Yuuri back toward the river bank, keeping a steady hold on him as they both glided into solid ground and made their way back to the tree.

                As Yuuri pulled his glasses back on, Victor said, “You overthink. That’s your problem.” At his fiancé’s surprised look, he laughed. “You have a very expressive face, Yuuri. I could practically see each thought as it hit you.” He rested his chin on his hand, looking at Yuuri curiously. “But sometimes that doesn’t happen. You didn’t overthink while we skated.”

                Yuuri smiled a bit. “There wasn’t any time to think at all.” He glanced down at his skates for a moment, then back up at Victor. “I’ve made up my mind. About you helping me, I mean. I know what I need you to be for me.”

                “Oh?” Victor leaned in with a smile. “And what’s that?”

                “Like this. I want you to always be the man I skated with just now.” Yuuri smiled at Victor, reaching forward to entwine their fingers together. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…so _happy_.” Excited, certainly. But never as content and relaxed as he’d been on the ice. “I think that’s the core part of you, and that’s the part I like best.”

                Victor’s eyes went wide, head jolting slightly. Staying very still, he stared at Yuuri for a moment, as if trying gauge whether he was telling the truth. Yuuri let the moment stretch, then gave Victor the widest smile he’d worn in weeks. Within seconds, Victor’s shock melted away, and he returned Yuuri’s smile with one of his brightest.

                “All right,” he said, then leaned forward as he raised an eyebrow. “But wanting me to just be myself won’t make things easy for you, Katsuki Yuuri. I’m just going to make you work harder.”

                He leaned even closer. Yuuri’s heart sped up again, but he closed his eyes and lifted his head. He could do this.

               “After all, we still have to find a way…to…” Victor trailed off. Yuuri peeked open an eye. Victor had stopped, eyes sharp and fixed on something invisible. All at once, he looked back at Yuuri. “…to get you to stop thinking.” A wide grin spread across Victor’s face. “I’ve got it!”

                “…oh?”

                Victor pulled back and quickly took off his skates. Yuuri mutely did the same, though a sudden feeling of dread started building up in his stomach.

                “It’s perfect. It’s foolproof,” Victor said as he got to his feet.

                “Yeah?”

                “Yes!” He grinned triumphantly as he took Yuuri’s hands, pulling him up. “At the Ball, _you’re_ going to make the opening speech!”

                “ _WHAT?!_ ”     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *What I headcanon [Victor's skates](http://www.iceskatesmuseum.com/e-byz-zwn.htm) looking like (except gold because swans aren't extra enough).
> 
> *This chapter is (relatively) short for a few reasons: 1) The original chapter I'd planned was going to be entirely too long and have too many things going on, so I've basically cut it in half. 2) It keeps me from stressing over abrupt tone changes 3) I want that ice skating sequence to be the star because hot damn, I'm proud of how that came out. 4) I WANT EVERYONE TO BASK IN THIS MOMENT BETWEEN THESE SKATE BOYS.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A breakthrough and then a breakdown.

               “A-and so, it is with the g-REATest pride tha-at we… welcomeyoutojoinincelebratingour…be…troth…al.”

                Yuuri panted as he stared at his audience, arms stretched out wide. Silence. After a moment, one third of the audience—comprised of Phichit, a seamstress, and a snoozing Makkachin—gave a little cough.

                “So…that wasn’t _great_ …” Phichit started.

                Yuuri groaned, throwing his head back. “I _know!_ But I—”

                “Lord Katsuki, please don’t move so much.” The seamstress readjusted his arms before continuing to tailor the bright blue coat.

                “Oh, sorry.” Yuuri let out a breath as he looked back to Phichit. “I don’t know why he _did_ this. There’s only three days left for me to magically become a great speaker.”

                Phichit tilted his head a bit as he looked up at Yuuri. “Well…I mean, you _can_ talk. You do really well one-on-one.”

                Yuuri groaned. “I don’t think giving a speech to each person individually is an option.” His shoulders sank. “I’m go—”

                “Lord Katsuki, _please!_ ”

                “Sorry!”

                The seamstress huffed. “I hope you’re not so fidgety when it’s time to do your wedding suit’s fitting,” she grumbled, nodding back to a half-finished dove-gray suit.

                “Er, actually, I meant to tell you. I actually have a kim…” At the seamstress’s sharp look, he quickly turned his attention back to Phichit, back straight and shoulders up. “I don’t know what Victor’s thinking. Maybe this is his idea of a joke. Or he wants me out of the way and me shriveling up and dying in front of the kingdom is the best way to do it.”

                Phichit gave a dismissive “tch” as he shook his head. “I think you shriveling and dying would upset the prince more than you. I mean, I’ve only been here four days, and _I_ can see that Victor’s crazy for you. I bet he really thinks you can do it.”

                “So I just let him down, then?”

                “You’re not listening.” Phichit leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. “If you think you’re really going to do this badly, why don’t you just tell him you don’t want to do it?”

                Yuuri grimaced. “It’s…complicated. I mean, first of all, he’s…”

                “The prince, I know. You can’t say no to the prince. But he’s your _fiancé_ , too. He should listen to your worries and work through them with you.”

                “It’s not…that. The prince thing, I mean. Well, it _is_ , but that’s not the only reason.” He lowered his arms as the seamstress patted them. “He just…he’s so _confident._ And it’s intimidating but also…reassuring? He’s confident in _me._ And I don’t want to let him down by opting out.”

                “That sounds like just what you need,” Phichit said with a smile. “Maybe you two really are meant to be together.”

                Yuuri shook his head with a small smile. “Poor deal on his end, then.”

                “ _Def_ initely not. You know, if you’re gonna be king, you’ve got to stop putting yourself down like this.”

                “I won’t be king. I’ll just be _Prince Consort_.” An edge of bitterness crept into Yuuri’s voice before he could stop it. Phichit frowned slightly.

                “So? You’re still second-in-command, right?”

                Yuuri sighed. “In name, yeah. But in practice? I’m just here to put up a good face for the Kingdom.” The seamstress pushed up an arm, and he held it up. “So everything I’ve worked for is going to waste.”

                Phichit leaned down to scratch Makkachin’s ears as she nudged her head against his leg. “If what you’re saying is true, then yeah, it is.” As Yuuri stiffened, he added, “But I don’t think that’s the case. Victor must have had a good reason for picking you. I mean, it’s not like he had to _search_ for someone willing to marry him. Do you know how many letters I’ve gotten from home asking what he’s like?” He grinned. “Instead of worrying about the speech, you should worry about all the people who’ll come after you for taking away the world’s most eligible bachelor.”

                Yuuri blanched as the seamstress took off the coat. “O-oh my god…”

                “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Phichit assured. Both he and Makkachin sat up, watching Yuuri. “Why don’t you do the speech again? You got it out the first time, so maybe this time it’ll come out easier.”

                Yuuri swallowed, then nodded. “Okay. Yeah. All right. Um…” He cleared his throat, then stood up as straight as he could. “We-welcome, honored guests, to our…”

                “Wait, wait! I want to hear what you’ve come up with.”

                Phichit looked up as Victor rested his arms on the back of his chair, watching Yuuri with excited eyes. He immediately got to his feet, starting to bow before Victor waved him down.

                “No, no, none of that, Lord Chulanont. Pretend I’m not even here.”

                If Yuuri wasn’t completely frozen in surprise, he would have let out a laugh at that. Victor on a normal day commanded the attention of an entire room; how was Yuuri supposed to ignore him when his _entire focus_ would be on him? He looked at Phichit, who shrugged. He looked at Makkachin, who had migrated to Victor’s side. He looked at the seamstress, who seemed very focused on hemming a pair of trousers. He swallowed, then promptly jumped down from the fitting platform.

                “I…actually have to go. I’m…I have to…pick out the…curtain hangings.”

                “Oh, they’ve already been picked out,” the seamstress said from her place. “You don’t have to wor…”

                Caught in his (admittedly flimsy) lie, Yuuri looked around the room with wide eyes. Phichit’s eyebrows rose, and he got to his feet. Victor pulled himself away from the chair. All three began to speak at once.

                “What I meant was—” “Actually, Yuuri was going to show me—” “You know, Yakov will probably have my head if—”

                They all stopped at once, staring at each other. Yuuri swallowed, then shook his head and abruptly left the room. It was the coward’s way out, he knew; he really shouldn’t be so intimidated by Victor at this point.

                 But he was. So it was time to disappear, to clear his head.

~

                Later, he realized that if he’d really wanted to _disappear_ , he shouldn’t have gone to the river that he and Victor had just skated on two days prior. But then, that was probably his unconscious’s way of wanting to be found.

                And he _was_ found soon after he’d begun to skate. A familiar bark made him turn his head, and the silver and brown blurs had to be Victor and Makkachin. He let out a breath, then braced his shoulders as he skated over. His eyebrows rose as Victor lightly stepped onto the ice to meet him, hands immediately going out to steady him. Victor gripped his hands tightly, then gave him a smile.

                “Careful. If one of us falls, the other goes down with him.”

                Yuuri managed a tight little smile, then looked down. He sucked in a breath, then, with a bit of effort, glanced up at Victor’s face.

                “I’m sorry,” they both said. Both stopped and looked at the other curiously. “Why are you—?”

                Victor shook his head as they again spoke at the same time, then he met Yuuri’s eyes directly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would get this stressed.”

                Yuuri’s mouth turned up in a little grimace. “Guess I wasn’t hiding it that well.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Did Phichit tell you about the speech?”

                “Not exactly. But he did give me a very friendly earful about putting too much stress on you.” Victor pulled one hand away to run it through his hair awkwardly. “I thought that giving you such a short deadline would mean you wouldn’t overthink. I didn’t think it’d make things worse.”

                Yuuri glanced off to the side. “Yeah. Well. Now you…”

                “But it _bothers_ me,” Victor continued. “Because when you _aren’t_ nervous, you’re incredible! You can do so many incredible things, but then _this_ is where you fall apart. If you didn’t get anxious, the entire kingdom would be at your feet.”

                Yuuri’s face grew red, and he gave a wry smile. “Maybe it’s to keep me from becoming too powerful,” he joked weakly, glancing up at Victor.

                Victor ignored it, staring hard at Yuuri as he continued. “So how do you skate so beautifully? Or cook? How can you do boring, important things like drafting laws and balancing budgets—things that _really_ impact the community—but saying a few words is so hard?”

                Yuuri drew himself up at the sudden frustrated tone in Victor’s voice. “Those are _different._ I focus just as hard on those things as I do with my speech. But it’s okay to look like you’re focused on those. With addressing people, you have to look like you’re _not_ focused. And then I focus on not looking like I’m focusing but that just makes me focus harder and…” He let go of Victor to press his hands to his forehead. “There are so many ways to ruin a speech! And I focus on every single one!”

                Victor’s brow creased, and he pressed a finger to his mouth as he looked very intently at a spot over Yuuri’s shoulder. He turned to look; nothing was there. _Oh._ Thinking again.

                 “What if…” Victor said slowly, eyes widening as he came back to the present. “…we found you something _else_ to focus on?”

                Yuuri frowned. “Like what?”

                “Like…” Victor’s eyes drifted, seeking out inspiration. They widened as he looked down. “Like a skating routine!”

                “You…want me to skate during my speech?”

                “Yes! Well, no. Not literally. But if we make a routine around your speech, you might focus less on your stressors.”

                “…you’re not serious.”

                Victor was _very_ serious. And, not twenty minutes later, Yuuri was skating around the river, yelling out parts of his speech as he went.

                “Ladies and gentleman, barons and baronesses…”

                “Excellent! Now bank to the right!”

                “We welcome you to the…”

                “Louder! I can’t hear you!”

                “We WELCOME YOU to the CELEBRATION…”

                “Yes, perfect! Time for the spin!”

                Yuuri huffed as he spun, trying to remember what came next. While he was plenty fond of Victor now—much fonder than he’d been when Victor was still an unattainable fairy tale prince a few months ago—his ways of fixing things were…not great. At least, not for him. Maybe skating during a speech would work for Victor. Actually, when he thought about it, it absolutely would work for Victor.

                His lips turned up a bit at the thought, and he shouted out the next bit of his speech with surprising ease. Not perfect, but better. Huh. He glanced over at Victor as he glided past him, who had clearly caught that bit of progress, given the way his face brightened. So _excitable_. And to think, Yuuri had always imagined that Victor would be aloof and distant if they’d ever met. The reality—even if it was frustrating at times—was infinitely more wonderful. 

                “…and I should think it is no surprise that I am outrageously honored to be the prince’s betrothed…”

                That was true, even with his worries. He didn’t know what he’d done to earn the prince’s attention, much less an offer of marriage, but Yuuri _was_ tremendously honored. Maybe, despite everything, that was why he’d accepted. Because in a way, it was a victory he wanted; he’d somehow impressed Victor enough to warrant his attention. Perhaps some secret part of himself knew that this was the only way he could get that triumph. Lord knew he was a disaster everywhere else.

                “…a-and I…I, um…um…”

                _Damn._ He’d been doing so good, too. He was probably thinking too much. He glanced up at Victor, trying to catch his reaction. His head was tilted; did that pose always show off his neck so nicely? A small smile was on his lips. Encouraging. Of course. That was what Victor did.

                “…and I will do my utmost to live up to the legacy of the Nikiforov family steadfastly at Prince Victor’s side.”

                There, wasn’t so hard this time. But why…?

                Yuuri came to a dead stop on the ice, eyes wide. _Oh._ It wasn’t _ice skating_ he should focus on.

                “Yuuri? Did something happen? Are you all right?”

                Yuuri’s expression didn’t change as he looked up at Victor. His heart quickened, just a touch, and he skated over to the prince as quickly as he could. Victor held out his hands to catch Yuuri, but he slowed and set his hands on Victor’s face, brown eyes locking onto surprised blue ones.

                “It’s you. I need to focus on _you_ ,” he said softly. He pressed his forehead to Victor’s. “Don’t leave my side at the ball. _Please._ ”

                Victor blinked, then smiled and tilted his head slightly to brush his nose against Yuuri’s.

                “Well, how can I say no to that?”

~

                Two days passed without much incident. His plan to focus on Victor seemed to be working; he hadn’t flubbed his speech once in the times he’d practiced. But he was faced with a conundrum on the night before the ball.

On one hand, Yuuri was the most confident he’d ever been.

                On the other, _oh god he was giving a speech to the most important people in the kingdom tomorrow._

                So it wasn’t a night that was especially good for sleeping.

                He spent the first hour tossing and turning. The second hour, he laid very still and tried to force himself into unconsciousness. By the third hour, he’d given up and turned his light on to read over his notes for the next day. That should bore him enough to get him to sleep.

                He’d gotten to the quirks of one particular neighboring king (overly confident, occasionally rude, did a weird thing with his hands sometimes) when a knock cracked against his door. Yuuri looked up in surprise. A visitor, at this time of night? Was something wrong? Was it news from home? What if it was _bad_ news? Before his brain got to the worst possible scenario, he slid out of bed and opened the door.

                A loud whine immediately made him relax, and he smiled at Victor and Makkachin. The prince winked.

                “Ha, I knew you wouldn’t be asleep. I thought you could use a bedmate.” He nodded down at Makkachin, letting go of her collar. She immediately pushed her way in and got up on the bed. “She’s wanted to come in here for ages, you know.” Victor crossed his arms, puffing in faux-offense. “I think she might even like you more than she likes me. I’m not sure I can forgive you for that.”

                Yuuri laughed lightly. “That’s a pretty small price to be Makkachin’s favorite. I’ll take it.”

                Victor pressed a hand over his heart. “Well, then! I can see when I’m not wanted.” He started to turn, but was stopped when Yuuri quickly took a hold of his wrist. He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raising but otherwise not moving.

                Yuuri focused on his face for a moment. He could do this. He had to stop being afraid of the pr—of his _fiancé._ He let out a breath, then gave Victor a small smile.

                “Maybe we could share her, then.” He could do this. _He could do this_. “I think the bed’s big enough for the three of us.”

                Victor’s eyes widened, and he just barely kept his smile in check. “I don’t know. Like I told you earlier, Makkachin pushes people out.”

                Yuuri squeezed Victor’s wrist. “Then we’ll find out who she really likes better.”

                The smile came out in all of its sunny glory, and Yuuri’s heart swelled to pleasantly-suffocating levels. He pulled Victor in, only letting go once they reached the bed. Victor sat on the edge, immediately patting Makkachin’s head and rubbing her ears. Yuuri smiled as he watched him, heart warming. He could tell he’d like this part of marriage. And he knew he’d like showing Victor more of the recipes he’d learned back home. And then Victor could show him…could show him…

                Yuuri blinked, staring hard at Victor. What…did Victor like? Ice skating, of course. And dogs. And…what else? Did he like other things? He had to. But what?

                All at once, Yuuri was acutely aware that Victor knew far more about him than he did Victor. Was that on purpose? Victor did have a tendency to interrupt when the conversation was turned onto his li—

                “That look will kill a man someday, I’m sure of it,” Victor murmured, smiling as Yuuri broke out of his thoughts. “What were you thinking about?”

                Yuuri blinked at Victor’s comment, then swallowed. Well. No time like the present. “I…I don’t think I know anything about you.”

                Victor’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

                “I-I don’t know about your life. I mean, aside from the decrees and portraits and things. But those weren’t really _you_.” His brows furrowed as he looked down, tapping his knee awkwardly. “I don’t know what your life was like before two months ago.”

                The prince’s lips thinned slightly before he gave Yuuri a wide—but oddly stiff—smile. “Well, then, what do you want to know?”

                  _Everything_ , Yuuri wanted to say. There was a lovely, blunt, warm, dramatic man beneath all the trappings of royalty. He’d admired the prince for ages, and now that he was close enough, he wanted to learn everything he could. What was his favorite food? What was growing up in the palace like? When had he learned to skate? Did he ever wish he wasn’t the prince?

 _Focus_ , _Yuuri_ , he told himself as he tried to organize his thoughts into something coherent. Among the hundreds of other thoughts in his head, Victor’s smile popped up. It hadn’t been quite right. He probably didn’t want to talk—well, he _did_ , but only because Yuuri wanted him to. So keep the questions nonthreatening. Maybe he’d open up on his own. But then maybe he wouldn’t ever open up if Yuuri didn’t push. But that was _okay,_ he didn’t want to put any pressure on him.. _._

                As Yuuri sorted through his thoughts, Victor had stretched out on one side of the bed, watching Yuuri patiently as he waited. He rested his cheek on his hand, hair spilling over his eyes like a silvery curtain and catching Yuuri’s eye. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and pushed Victor’s hair back.

                _Oh._

                His heart fluttered as his fingers easily passed through soft hair, the strands flowing around his hand easily as water. Then, all too soon, his fingers brushed warm skin. Victor’s eyes closed, and he nudged his head against Yuuri’s hand, silently asking for him to repeat the motion. Yuuri obliged, then obliged again. He combed through Victor’s hair slower each time, marveling at it.

                Then, after countless minutes of considering what questions he should or shouldn’t ask, one fell from his lips without a single thought.

                “Do you miss your long hair?”

                Victor peeked open an eye, then shut it again. “Sometimes.” He tilted his head to let Yuuri comb through the other side. “I miss having something to braid when I need to think.” He smiled as Yuuri brushed his bangs back. “In situations like this, I wish I’d never cut it.” The eye opened again, watching Yuuri curiously. “I cut it a long time ago, though. I’m surprised you remember.”

                Yuuri swallowed. He shouldn’t be hurt that Victor didn’t remember when they met. There were a lot of things he didn’t remember, and certainly meeting a scared boy once in the palace wasn’t something all that ground-breaking.

                Despite everything, they weren’t equals. What was life-changing for Yuuri was a daily occurrence for the prince. He had to remem—

                “Yuuri?” Strong fingers wrapped lightly around his arm. He let out a breath. Well. If Victor didn’t remember, then he’d just have to tell him.

                “We met before,” he said, once again stroking Victor’s hair. “My mother brought me with her to the Senate meeting when I was twelve. I…I saw you during the meeting and…” His hand paused, moving to lightly trace the shell of Victor’s ear. He hummed in response, moving to nestle his head down against a pillow. Yuuri smiled and continued, “And you were the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen.” He focused on one strand of hair, twirling it gently around his finger. “And then you found me when I got lost in the palace, and then we both got even more lost.” He let out a soft laugh, gently tugging his finger free and watching the hair slip back into place.

                “When we finally found the room, you said I’d bore you some day. Just like every other noble did in the Senate.” Yuuri’s brow furrowed, his hand diving once again into Victor’s hair but this time staying put. “I promised myself I’d never bore you. I guess that’s what I was trying to prove last year. That’s what I’m really terrified of, more than humiliating myself or ruining my home’s reputation. I hadn’t wanted to mess up in front of you.”

                Victor stayed silent, face obscured by a wave of silver once Yuuri pulled his hand back. A small, inviting smile curved at his lips. Oh, he was letting Yuuri have this moment. God, how did he pick up on things like this?

                “I’m not afraid of that anymore,” he whispered. “You’ve stayed by my side through everything. I’m still not sure what you see in me…but I don’t want you to ever stop seeing it.”

                This was it. This was the moment. Yuuri _would_ kiss him. He could do it. He _could._

                He leaned down, breathing hitched. His heart thrummed in his chest. Any second thoughts were shoved aside as he pushed back the wave of Victor’s hair.

                _Oh._

                He was fast asleep.

                Yuuri couldn’t help it. He giggled. He giggled _a lot_. Head tilted back, he tried clapping a hand over his mouth to stem his laughs before he woke Victor.

                “Yuuri?”

                Too late. That just made him laugh harder. He shook his head as Victor raised his head, face soft and cheek red from where it had rested on the pillow.

                “So-sorry! Just a…just a minute…”

                Yuuri knew Victor was watching him laugh; he caught a warm smile growing on the Prince’s face. He had just calmed himself down when he felt a hand rest on his knee.

                “Don’t ever apologize for laughing again. I’ve never woken up to something so wonderful.”

                One last giggle bubbled out of Yuuri’s throat, but he nodded. He turned to blow out the lamp, then settled down beside Victor. Despite the warmth welling up in his chest as he watched Victor shut his eyes again, he knew the moment was gone. But that was fine. There would be more.

                And next time, Yuuri would be ready. But for now, he settled for giving Victor a feather-light kiss on the forehead

                “Good night, Your Highness. And thank you.”

~

                It was time.

                Yuuri stood outside the grand hall—the one he’d received his welcome party in—for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. He’d spent the past few hours being poked and prodded into looking his best: hair slicked back, torso wrapped in the surprisingly flattering blue coat (which, at the last moment, had received golden epaulets—he wondered who requested _that_ ), and being reminded again and again to lift his chin and stand up straight. But the moment was here. So he took one last breath, then pushed open the doors.

                He couldn’t stop his gasp as he entered.

                The grand hall had been transformed into a wonderland of holly, magnolias, and whole branches of trees covered in delicate white flowers to mimic the snow outside. It made sense, of course—Christmas Eve was their wedding date, and winter was more or less in full-force already—but even so, it didn’t lessen Yuuri’s awe as he stepped inside.

                “I trust it all is to your liking, Lord Katsuki.”

                Yuuri jumped as the Royal Planner slipped in behind him and spoke. He turned and nodded with a smile.

                “It’s beautiful. I couldn’t imagine a better setting for tonight.”

                “Good. But take care to sound like you’re the one who planned it instead of just stammering out ‘yes’ whenever I asked a question.” Yuuri gave an awkward smile; the Planner narrowed her eyes. “Wait a moment, hold still.”

                Yuuri blinked, but did as she asked. With quick fingers, she plucked off his glasses and set them in her tiny handbag.

                “Hey, wait!” He was going to protest more, but fell silent as the woman gave him, of all things, a _smile._

                “There. Now everyone can see exactly why the prince was smitten with you.” She gave his cheek a light pat. “Just be sure to keep your manners as beautiful as your face, and I’ll give you your glasses back at the end of the night.”

                Yuuri stared after her as she quickly walked away to presumably yell at a few idle servants. Had she just…approved of him? _Well._ Maybe tonight really would go well.

                He smiled at the thought, a strange feeling—could it be _confidence?_ —filling his chest. When a familiar hand rested on his shoulder, he turned to send his biggest, brightest smile Victor’s way. Victor jolted, as if he’d been physically struck, and the look he gave Yuuri only bolstered the confidence building in him. He took Victor’s hand from his shoulder and lightly kissed the knuckles, just as Victor had done countless times before to him, and smiled up at him.

                _God_ , he was beautiful. This thought went through Yuuri’s head at least once per day, but _today_ …the purple of his coat (which matched Yuuri’s, down to the epaulets that had _definitely_ been Victor’s idea) brought out the cool alabaster of his skin, and the lights transformed his hair into a silver halo. He looked every bit the fairy tale prince Yuuri had dreamed of, but he was _solid_. He was _real._

                And, Yuuri realized, he was _his._

                His heart jumped pleasantly, and he kissed Victor’s hand again.

                “Don’t leave my side,” he murmured against the skin.

                Victor laughed lightly, free hand reaching up to cup Yuuri’s cheek. “As if I would want to.” He glanced up as nobles began milling into the room. “For once, I wish I was a little more selfish than I already am. Then I wouldn’t have to share you with all these people.”

                Yuuri laughed. “Selfish? You’re joking, right?”

                For half a second, Victor’s expression shifted, going from puppy-love to…guilt? Shame? Over what? Victor had been nothing but kind, even when Yuuri had been at his coldest and most difficult. He’d made the effort to reach him again and again.

                Huh. Maybe Yuuri wasn’t the only one who was regularly too hard on himself.    

                Yuuri squeezed his hand, calling his attention back to the present. “Well, in three weeks, you can be as selfish as you want. I plan on being just as selfish with you.”

                Victor’s eyes met his own, and he gave him a wide smile. Wide, not sunny. Something was wrong. Yuuri’s brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak. Victor was quicker.

                “We’d better get ready. I think most of the guests have arrived.” Victor gave him a warm smile—one of his real ones—and pulled him toward a little platform strung with wreathes, winterberries, and bright red swathes of cloth. Once Victor stepped up onto it, he held his hand out to help Yuuri up. However, once he took it, Victor pulled him forward, pressing their foreheads together.

                “I’ll be with you the entire time,” he murmured. “You will be just as amazing as I know you are.”

                Yuuri smiled, tilting his head to brush his nose against Victor’s. “Thank you,” he whispered, then stepped up on the platform beside him. Victor guided him to a little podium, where a few notes were already set up. Yuuri looked up at his fiancé, then took a deep breath and stepped up to it.

                Oh.

                _Wow._

                There were…a _lot_ of people. And once the nearby musicians gave a little fanfare, he knew—even without his glasses—that every eye was fixed on him.

                He froze, gripping the podium hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He would forget his speech and embarrass the royal family and…

                An arm slipped through one of his, and Victor lightly pressed himself against Yuuri’s side.

                “I’m here,” he murmured into his ear. “You can do this, Yuuri.”

                Yuuri looked up at him, then let out a little breath. Well. Now or never. He looked out at the crowd and cleared his throat, then…began.

                “Ladies and gentlemen, barons and baronesses, we welcome you to the celebration of the upcoming union be-etween His Highness, Prince Victor Nikiforov, and myself, Ka-Katsuki Yuuri, Earl of Has-setsu.”

                As he faltered, Victor pressed his fingers against Yuuri’s arm. _Focus on me_ , the touch said. _I’m here._

                Yuuri took a breath and continued. “As the future Prince Consort, I am well-aware of the position I am to fill. Like you, I am looking forward to a long and happy reign with Victor, guiding our kingdom to new heights and prosperity.” He glanced up at Victor, who gave him a bolstering smile. Yuuri stood straighter.

                 “And I should think it is no surprise that I am outrageously honored to be the prince’s betrothed and I will do my utmost to live up to the legacy of the Nikiforov family…” He paused, looking up warmly at Victor “…steadfastly at Prince Victor’s side. And I hope, in the future, to make you all very proud and do all I can to better the lives of all in our kingdom. But for tonight, our focus is on joy and love.” He gave a big smile to the crowd. “And so it is with greatest pride that we welcome you to celebrate our betrothal!”

                As soon as Yuuri finished, musicians immediately began to play. There was a smattering of applause before the general migration to the center of the ballroom to dance. Yuuri took a few breaths, then looked up at Victor with bright eyes. Victor matched his expression with a grin so sunny Yuuri was sure the room got a touch brighter. Then, all at once, Victor pulled him into a nearly-crushing hug.

                “That was _perfect._ Did you see how they all looked at you?” He stepped back to meet Yuuri’s gaze. “There’s no doubt that you’re the perfect match for this kingdom.”

                Yuuri stared at Victor, mouth open but unable to respond. _Perfect match?_ Had it really been _that_ good? People were looking this way. Did they really think that? Or…did they—

                Yuuri’s thoughts were cut off as Victor pulled him toward the other dancers. He grinned at Yuuri. “Now for the actual fun part of the night.” As he guided Yuuri’s hands into position, he gave him a wink. “Just like skating.”

                Yuuri gave a little laugh, watching Victor with starry eyes as he guided them through the waltz. Warmth was bubbling up in his chest, threatening to spill out if anything—even the tiniest thing—improved the night even more. Victor had delivered on his promise to be there, had been quick to divert him from his own thoughts. It really was a team effort that got them here.

                He leaned forward, nose just barely brushing Victor’s, and murmured, “How do you keep doing this?”

                Victor tilted his head. “Doing what?”

                “Meeting me where I am. You always do.”

                The prince smiled warmly. “Well, I couldn’t exactly meet you where you weren’t.”

                Yuuri’s own smile widened, and he let himself sink into the dance. Once again, he and Victor moved in perfect harmony; the same push and pull they’d had in their skating leading them in time with the music. Yuuri sighed as he looked up at Victor, matching his smile and utterly content.

                He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this happy.

                “Careful, Lord Katsuki.” Victor’s lips were suddenly at his ear, lightly brushing it as he spoke. “If you keep looking at me like that, people may think you’re in love with me.”

                Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he laughed brightly as they spun through the room. Well…now that he thought about it…

                Why shouldn’t he address it? He was practically drunk on the success of the night. Surely it would make Victor’s night if he said…

                Yuuri gave a shy smile, glancing down at their feet. “Well, _actually_ , since you’ve…”

                “Ah!”

                Yuuri was nearly catapulted forward as Victor stopped.

                “Sorry, sorry. But I found Chris!” He looked down at Yuuri. “The Duke of Suietz, do you remember him from last year?”

                Yuuri blinked, then shook his head slowly. Victor frowned for a moment, but shook his head.

                “I have to go tell him about the past few months. Ah, but after last year, he’ll be on his best behavior if you’re there…” Victor chewed his lip for a moment, obviously weighing his options. Yuuri smiled and pat his side.

                “Go see him. I’ll be fine now that the speech is over.”

                Victor looked down at him worriedly. “Are you sure?” Yuuri nodded, and Victor stopped their dance. “I’ll be right back. I’ll really introduce you two, and then I’ll be by your side for the rest of the night.” He took Yuuri’s hand to give a quick kiss, then dived into the crowd to find the Duke.

                Yuuri watched him elegantly make his way through the crowd, looking every bit like a ballerina crossing a stage. He sighed happily to himself, then turned to look through the crowd. Phichit would be here somewhere; he’d have to tell him that Victor had nearly had him choreograph a skating routine. Yuuri squinted, trying to make out individual faces in a sea of blurs. God, he wished he’d fought a little harder for his glasses.

                Well, he’d just have to focus a little harder. So, cautiously, he made his way through the crowds, searching for any sign of his friend. Ah! There was something that looked sort of orange! Yím Pàen Din was known for its bright clothing, so that was probably him.

                “Phichit! Phichit!” he called, dodging a few nobles and winding around others as he got closer to the orange blob. “Phichit!”

                Huh. The orange blob seemed…not quite Phichit-shaped. Not to mention that the top of the head—which should have been dark—was very, _very_ fair.

                _Oh,_ god.

                Yuuri came to a stop as Yuri Plisetsky—outfitted in what appeared to be a tiger-skin suit—whipped his head around the glower at him.

                “What are you yelling about, hick?”

                Yuuri stiffened at the immediate insult, then took a breath. He’d been doing excellent today. He had given a speech to the widest assortment of nobles he’d ever seen. He could talk to a sulky teenager.

                “I’m…I’m glad you came, Yuri,” he said with a small smile.

                Yuri rolled his eyes and puffed a strand of hair out of his face. “It wasn’t like I had a choice. Apparently if I skipped out, people would think I’m a ‘sore loser’ or whatever.” He set his jaw, glaring hard at his glass. “I mean, it’s not like I _lost the chance of a lifetime_ or anything.”

                Yuuri swallowed hard. So that…was still an issue. He cleared his throat, brow creasing, before he asked, “Do you even _want_ to be king, Yuri?”

                Immediately, Yuri’s face hardened, eyes steely as a soldier’s. “It doesn’t matter what I _want._ It’s what I need to do.”

                Well. Yuuri could, at the very least, understand _that._

                “Look, I completely sympathize, but…”  

                “I don’t want your pity,” Yuri snapped at him before glaring straight ahead. “I shouldn’t be passed over because Victor decided to dress up some asshole from the country and parade him around just before his deadline.”

                A lot of thoughts crossed Yuuri’s mind as the boy spoke: mostly indignant ones at the thought of this child trying to ruin his night with petty insults (and, simultaneously, shame at having his night almost ruined by a child’s petty insults). But one word loomed over all the others.

                “Deadline?”

                Yuri looked up at him, looking genuinely surprised. Then a slow smirk grew across his face. “You mean he didn’t _tell_ you? Huh. Maybe Victor’s not as much of an idiot as I thought. I mean, it’s not like you’d hear about it in the middle of nowhere.”

                Yuuri swallowed, pushing past the high-pitched noise that started to build in his head. “What are you talking about, Yuri?”

                Yuri fiddled with his glass, smug look unwavering. “Do you even know how his parents died?” Yuuri shook his head. “A sickness came through the Capitol a couple years ago, a really bad one. Most people got sick, and…” For a quick moment, his expression flickered before he put on a steely look. “And a lot of people died. Two of the victims were the king and queen.” He looked up at Yuuri. “People were freaking out when news got out that they were sick. Victor was off abroad somewhere. They tried to contact him, but he didn’t come back until his parents were in the ground.”

                Yuuri’s eyes widened. Was that…true? From what little he knew about Victor, he hadn’t been all that close to his parents, but that was _cold_.

                Yuri glanced up at him, smirk returning at his reaction. “Everyone was already worried about Victor becoming king. I mean, it’s understandable; he’s an _idiot_. There’s no substance to him. And him ignoring the call to come home only solidified that he’s unfit to rule. So, _right_ before he died, the king passed a law saying that Victor _couldn’t_ become king unless he married by his twenty-eighth birthday.” He shook his head. “I think that’s stupid, but I guess they wanted to light a fire under his ass. Maybe see if he really wanted to be king. Or maybe his parents were more like him than I thought.”      

                Yuuri stared at him, completely blind-sided by this revelation. He shook his head. “But why wait so late? I-I mean, the wedding’s the day before his birthday.”

                Yuri shrugged. “Hell if I know. But, knowing him, he probably forgot about it until his proposal.” He set his jaw, hand tightening around the stem of his glass. “It’s so stupid. He does some last minute bullshit like this and gets the crown, all while I’m working my ass off trying to become a good king. I’d have to wait three more years, but I already _know_ I’d be a better prince regent than he is, and an even better king.”

                The noise in Yuuri’s head subsided for a moment as he looked at Yuri. The sharp look had returned to the boy’s eyes, contrasting sharply with his shockingly young face. Again, he was aware that he would have never chosen to grow up in this world.

                “We…maybe we can reach some sort of…of compromise?” he said slowly. “I’m sure you have plenty to offer to the kingdom and—”

                “You know, you’re just as bad!” Yuri interrupted, eyes blazing. “You come waltzing in here from _Sagashima_ —most people don’t even know that’s a _place_ —and pretend like you know what it’s like to be one of _us_? You’re a _safeguard_ , hick.” The hand on the glass tightened enough to threaten to snap the stem, then suddenly relaxed. “Well. I guess you’re a little more than that. You were a _project_.”

                “ _What?_ ”

                Yuri shook his head. “Why would Victor pick _you_ of all people? You don’t have land. You don’t have any real notable achievements or wealth; you’re not even a symbol of alliance since you’re technically part of the kingdom. The only thing anyone knows you for is last year’s disaster. I thought he just picked a name at random, because he _is_ that stupid. But…this might actually be his best plan yet.” He met Yuuri’s eyes. “Tonight, he showed everyone that he can turn a pig into a prince. This little charity project of his will win him support.” He gave Yuuri an unpleasant smile. “And you completely fell for it. So you’re even more of an idiot than _he_ is.”

                The shrill noise in Yuuri’s head pierced through every inch of his brain, dove straight into his heart. Despite the nearly deafening noise in his head, Yuri’s scoff cut through it all.

                “Don’t tell me you thought it was _love_.” His expression grew cold. “That’s not how things work at this level. Marriage isn’t personal. If anything, this whole thing was a last ‘fuck you’ to his parents. No doubt the thought of their son marrying such a loser has them rolling— _hey!_ ”

                Yuuri pushed right past the boy, aiming straight for the door. His head was screaming, all the noise from the ball drowned out by the growing noise in his head.

                _Project._

                He had been a _project._

                And the worst part was that he had _known_ , on some level, that this had been the case. What else could he have been? Victor had known nothing about him except that he fell apart when speaking. What a _triumph_ it would be for him show the kingdom that he’d fixed a broken little earl, and how _kind_ of him to marry him afterward.

                People swarmed around Yuuri, a mass of blurs all trying to speak to him. He shook his head and pushed aside, skin growing clammy and stomach churning. He had to get out. Where was the door? Why couldn’t he find the door? _God_ , why hadn’t he kept his glasses? Head was spinning. Chest contracting. Oh god, what if he fainted? What if he had a heart attack? What if he made a terrible spectacle of himself because he’d been foolish enough to think that the _prince_ was stupid enough to _love him_ and…

                “Yuuri?”

                Strong arms caught him as he careened through the crowd. Yuuri looked up, face to face with Victor. _Fuck._ This close, Yuuri could catch every detail of his beautiful face. Brows drawn, lips parted, blue eyes concerned—probably worried about the spectacle he was causing. That didn’t fit with what he’d planned for a _hick_ from _nowhere._

                “I-I’m sick. I need to go,” he said quickly, pushing Victor away before rushing out to the door. He had to get out. Had to get somewhere quiet so he could finally just break down.

                Maybe there _was_ one area where he and Victor were equals. After this, they’d both be failures when it came to proving people wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Here's another fun fact for you: I'm still a wreck over Victor's hair and think about it constantly.
> 
> *Take a wild guess as to what Yuuri and Victor's suits are inspired by.
> 
> Go on.
> 
> Wild guess.
> 
> *Not pictured in this chapter: The twenty pages of notes I have on Yuri Plisetsky detailing why his die-hard determination to succeed, the immense pressure on his shoulders, and the absolutism in ideas that comes from being fifteen would make him a terrifying antagonist in literally any other genre instead of the edgy, shouty, Hot-Topic-wearing idiot he is in the anime.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding day arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *If you'll take a look up at the chapter numbers, you'll see that I once again added another chapter because plotting is hard and maybe not all chapters need to be 7000 words, _d_f_.
> 
> *Also! The bestie responsible for this fic being written made [THIS BEAUTIFUL COVER ](https://sharpace.tumblr.com/post/164677581127/a-piece-i-made-for-slusheeducks-short-story) for this fic and you should LOOK AT IT. 
> 
> *(Also look at her other stuff. She draws the prettiest Yuuri Katsukis and angriest Yuri Plisetskys.)

                Yuuri wasn’t _entirely_ lying with his excuse. Whether it was merely a (somewhat) lucky coincidence or the result of his anxiety, he really did fall ill after the ball. For the next two days, he was essentially bedbound, wracked with hives, chills, and lightheadedness. On one hand, it meant that he hadn’t had to face Victor just yet. But on the other, being trapped in bed meant that, in his lucid moments, he was trapped in his thoughts as well.

                It wasn’t as if he was _surprised_ by Yuri’s explanation. Really, it made perfect sense. Victor would want his gamble to pay off, and he must have realized that Yuuri responded well when he felt cared for. Positive reinforcement worked better than negative, so of course he’d see better results by treating Yuuri this way. And it had paid off. He’d turned the pig into a prince. Really, Yuuri should thank him for helping him get through his fear of public speaking.

                And it wasn’t like he’d come into this relationship expecting love. It was what he ought to do. They both benefited from this union. It was, overall, a successful one.

                Except it _wasn’t!_ Yuuri had muddled through _one_ speech. That was the whole of his “success”! At the end of the day, he was still just a pretty, convenient thing to sit by the prince’s side. And, now that he thought about it, his position hadn’t changed once during this whole engagement. But the way Victor had treated him had taken the sting away. He’d been cared for, his interests and strengths had been encouraged. Victor had made him believe that he had seen something in Yuuri that no one else had.

                But he hadn’t. Because _nothing was there._

Yuuri had serious thoughts of never leaving the bed, of just wasting away altogether. But he could never do that. He had made a commitment, and he was going to see it through—even if it hurt, even if he hated it more than anything

                So it was time to get up.

                When he finally roused himself, he found himself surrounded by servants at all hours. (He realized that they may have been there the entire time he was sick, but he hadn’t noticed them between the physical and mental hell he’d had to deal with.) It was uncomfortable, but he managed. It was all part of acclimating his role.

                At first, he debated on going straight to Phichit; he had no doubt that his friend had been worried sick about him. But no. There was a tea with the local nobles at the end of the week and a dinner party with the members of the Senate next week to plan. If he was going through with this wedding—and he _was_ —then his responsibilities needed to come before all else. So, leading his nursing entourage forward, Yuuri made his way to go speak with the Royal Plann—

                “ _Yuuri!_ ”

                The exclamation had come the moment Yuuri had opened the ballroom door, and before he could react, he was nearly catapulted back by a weight crashing into him. Strong arms wrapped around him tightly, catching him before he fell back. It took Yuuri a solid moment to register that the assault had come from the prince. He swallowed, tentatively looking up at Victor, who immediately pulled back to meet Yuuri’s eyes worriedly.

                “Are you all right? Are you sure you should be up and moving around?”

                “Victor, I have a tea to pl—”

                “It can be cancelled! I don’t want you to get any more ill, or…or anything worse.”

                For a moment, Yuuri wondered if Victor’s borderline-panic came from remembering his parents’ deaths. But, then again, he apparently hadn’t cared about them. He was likely just upset at nearly losing his chance at ascension after all his hard work. Of course he’d be worried about losing his _safeguard_.

                Yuuri swallowed hard, trying to combat the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought. His gaze darted away from Victor’s face, and he set his shoulders. “No, I’m fine. Really. I promised to plan this, and I’m going to see it through.”

                He pulled away from Victor; the other man easily let him go. Yuuri wasn’t going to meet his eyes, wasn’t going to make this harder…but his will broke, and he glanced up. Victor was…confused? Disappointed? Unreadable. Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to try and decipher it, instead pushing past the prince to find the Royal Planner.

                At the end of the day, he wanted to be a good earl and a good Prince Consort. In both positions, he was duty-bound to serve the kingdom in any way he could. It was just as sick and awful a game as the one Victor was playing with him, but that was court life. And if that meant he had to close off his heart to survive, he had to start now before he broke beyond repair.

~

                The next three weeks were _hell._ It was like a never-ending carousel of fittings, dinners, teas, balls, social calls, and meetings. Other nobles trickled in—his family came eventually, but with all the preparations needing to be done, he’d barely gotten a chance to even say ‘Hello’ to them—and taking care of entertainment and the like turned out to be his responsibility.

                He’d managed to steal a moment away to assure Phichit that he was, in fact, alive, as well as to hide from the never-ending waves of well-wishers who wanted to meet the soon-to-be Prince Consort. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell Phichit about the conversation with Yuri, but his friend could tell he was stressed all the same. The minutes they had were spent in idle chatter and jokes. It was the closest thing he had to relief.

                On the other end of the spectrum, there was…Victor.

                Yuuri wasn’t sure if his body language was extraordinarily loud, or if Victor was particularly sensitive to others, but somehow he seemed to realize that Yuuri wanted space. They caught each other occasionally between meetings—he was just as trapped as Yuuri, with Yakov putting him through “How to be King Boot Camp” (Victor’s words) and with several important people from neighboring kingdoms begging for his ear now that he was about to take charge of the kingdom—and, despite the bright look on the prince’s face whenever he saw his fiancé, he would stop himself from getting too close.

                Until he didn’t.

                “ _Yuuri._ ”

                Yuuri, on his way to hide with Phichit for a couple hours, nearly jumped out of his skin as Victor draped himself over his shoulders without warning. He turned his head to look at Victor, face as composed as it could be. Victor sighed, pressing his chin into Yuuri’s shoulder.

                “What kind of engagement is this? I almost never get to see my fiancé. I didn’t even get time to congratulate you after your opening speech at the last dinner!” Victor looked up at him, lips forming a slight moue that almost, _almost_ cracked the walls around Yuuri’s heart.

                Yuuri swallowed, quickly looking away from Victor. “It…it wasn’t really that great.”

                “Compared to how you used to be? It was _amazing!_ ” Yuuri’s heart twisted at the compliment that sounded _so genuine._ Victor tilted his head, cheek now pressed against Yuuri’s shoulder. “Granted, your taste in décor could be better. You go too ornate—it feels unnatural.” He lifted his head; Yuuri glanced at him to catch big blue eyes sparkling back at him. “I could help you plan the next one! And maybe you could help with the budget again? It’s like another language to me.”

                Yuuri bit back a scoff. It was so obvious now: he was trying to make Yuuri feel useful by pretending to be bad at budgeting. Victor could probably balance books in his sleep. God, he’d been so stupid to think he was actually _helping_ Victor earlier.

                “I don’t have time,” he said quietly. “And I really need to focus on my own work, Victor.”

                Victor visibly deflated, and he pulled away from Yuuri. “Well…I suppose it could wait until after the wedding,” he said. Yuuri tried not to notice the way his smile flickered. “The money should still be there in a week, right?”

                “Mm.” Yuuri’s chest tightened. _One week._ That’s all that was left. He quickly bowed his head. “I…I really have to go, Victor.”

                Victor’s brow creased, but he hummed for him to go. Yuuri glanced up at him once more, then quickly turned before he could register _how_ sad Victor looked. _It’s just a game_ , Yuuri reminded himself. This was all a game. And Yuuri would lose the moment he let his guard down.

~

                The day came.

                By all means, it was a perfect day for a winter wedding. The sun was out, pale light making the icicles and snow on the palace glitter. The halls were abuzz with anticipation, with both the staff and the guests chattering eagerly about the wedding.

                For Yuuri, the past three weeks of trying to make himself numb had paid off in some respect. He wasn’t panicking as he gave out final instructions (carefully memorized from the Royal Planner’s notes) to the staff. And, as he was up on the tailor’s block getting some last minute tucks and stitches on his dignified, dove-gray suit, he was surprised at the sharp yet serene face that met him from the mirror. Really, if Yuuri didn’t know himself, he’d think that the reflection belonged to a man ready to become Prince Consort.

                It wasn’t true, obviously. He was by _no means_ ready, and he was still upset over…well, _everything_. But for now, he _had_ to keep himself numb to get through the day. Everything else would be fine. He had his vows memorized, he knew where he needed to be at every point of the ceremony, even the dances at the reception were rehearsed—with instructors, but still. Since Victor was so focused on making Yuuri look like a competent noble, he wouldn’t stop with a waltz.

                Yuuri was prepared and practiced. So the goal of today was just to _survive._

                As the seamstress finished, she and her assistant cooed over how handsome he was and how lucky the prince was, etc. etc. Of course they would say things like that, though—you don’t tell a groom that he’s a _stupid hick_ on his wedding day, even if everyone already kn—

                _No._ Focus.

                Today was about _survival._ He _could not_ let his brain get the better of him today. He _had_ to keep it together if he wanted to win the game. What he would actually win from being essentially a trophy husband, he wasn’t really sure. But he certainly wouldn’t get whatever prize came from throwing away your life aspirations if he freaked out at the altar. But maybe he’d lost when he’d freaked out at the ball. Oh, god, of course he had; he’d no doubt made a complete embarrassment of himself and Victor and the kingdom and Sagashima and the Katsuki name and maybe he really should just reconsider going back to his bed and never ever ever getting ou—

                “Yuuri?”

                He sucked in a breath as he was brought back to reality, and he looked down at Phichit, who had slipped in mid-freak out. Phichit watched him for a moment, then gave him a small smile.

                “It’s just about time.” He grinned. “Though if you want a more dramatic entrance, we can wait here for a while.”

                Yuuri swallowed as he shook his head, turning back to look at the mirror. The bright red and gold of Phichit’s court clothes only accentuated how dour and grim he looked in his own gray suit. _Fitting_ , he thought, letting out a sigh. He caught Phichit’s reflection glancing up at him with a worried frown.

                “You know…”

                “ _Don’t._ ” Yuuri grimaced and shut his eyes. “There’s no time to say no. I’m going through with this.” He opened his eyes to regain his composure, though that was shot as he caught a rare scowl on his friend’s face.

                “You know, I’ve stayed pretty quiet about this for the month,” Phichit said after a moment, dark eyes fixed hard on Yuuri. “It really seemed like you and Victor were warming to each other. You seemed happy.”

                Yuuri swallowed. He _had_ been.

                “But now you definitely aren’t. And if you’re really _this_ miserable, I can’t let you do this in good conscience. You deserve to be _happy,_ Yuuri.” He crossed his arms. “So tell me what happened at the ball?”

                “I-I don’t—”

                “Yuuri, even if I _wasn’t_ your best friend—which I know I am—you’re like an open book when something’s bothering you. So what happened?” Phichit leaned closer. “Do we need to organize a getaway? We’ll fake your death and I’ll make you a citizen of Yím Pàen Din.”

                Yuuri looked down at Phichit, too torn to even laugh at the joke. On one hand, _finally_ telling someone what had been bothering him might help. Phichit would understand, and maybe he really would try to smuggle him out before the wedding. But, as nice as that sounded, he couldn’t do that. He was committed to this, and if he lost his nerve and freaked out, that would just be more stress and failure on his part. Plus—as much as Yuuri hated remembering this—Phichit was, at the end of the day, an influential noble from a _different_ kingdom. An ally, yes, but if word ever got out to any other country that the new Prince Consort was hardly more than a pet project, then how would the kingdom be perceived?

                This was just one more part of the game.

                “I’m terrified.” That part wasn’t a lie. He was absolutely terrified of what would happen once he and Victor were wed. The next part, though, that was a lie. “It…I didn’t really know what I was getting into. It didn’t…it feels _real_ now. And I’m not sure how I feel about everything and I don’t know if I’m really fit to have this role and I mean, I hardly know Victor and…”

                He wasn’t sure if he pulled off the lie or if Phichit accepted that Yuuri wouldn’t tell him the truth. Regardless, Phichit set a hand on Yuuri’s back, giving it the same friendly pats he’d given when Yuuri’s anxiety had gotten the best of him in Bellezza.

                “It’ll be fine,” he assured. “I know you’ll be a great ruler. Victor sees that, too, I’m sure. And he _adores_ you.” Phichit looked up at him with a warm smile. “You made the right choice accepting this, Yuuri. You’re gonna do great things for the kingdom.”

                A bitter taste filled Yuuri’s mouth. Everything Phichit said was wrong. He was a pawn. He was _nothing_. But what could be done? For now, he made due with swallowing down his disappointment and pushing back a few strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead. After a moment, he jumped down from the tailor’s block and set his shoulders best he could.

                “It’s time,” he said, surprising himself with how confident he sounded before he led the way out.

~

                For one bright and shining moment, it had seemed like the wedding would go well. Yuuri followed all the cues perfectly: he held himself regally as the doors to the grand ballroom opened, he practically glided down the aisle—he gave subtle, obligatory smiles to his family and Phichit as he walked, though he abruptly turned his head as he caught sight of Yuri’s disinterested scowl—and he’d locked his eyes on Victor for the last few steps. He kept his face composed even as his chest ached at how bright and warm the blue eyes were; the look on Victor’s face nearly fooled him into believing that there was something more than tactical planning behind this wedding.

                “You look…incredible,” Victor breathed as Yuuri reached the altar, because that’s what grooms were supposed to say.

                Yuuri demurely looked away, as expected. “So do you,” he breathed before looking back up at Victor. It wasn’t a _lie_ —Victor was _always_ breath-taking. But the deep, solid black of his suit made him look pale and severe. That wasn’t like Victor at all.

                Yuuri swallowed hard at the thought, face pinching before he could stop it. Well, it wasn’t like the Victor he _thought_ he had known. Maybe it suited the real Victor quite well.

                Oblivious—or, perhaps, in response—to Yuuri’s discomfort, Victor took his hands and squeezed them as the officiant began the ceremony.

                “Lords, Ladies, and loved ones, it is with great joy that we celebrate the most felicitous of unions.”

                _Felicitous_. Well, that was one way to look at the prince’s failed attempt at creating a Prince Consort from nothing. _No_ , no. He had to keep those thoughts at bay. He _would_ get through this ceremony. Just a few more minutes of this. He set his mouth in a hard line as he regained his focus on what the officiant was saying.

                “And, of course as heads of our kingdom, your marriage should be a reflection of the same grace and strength you will no doubt share with your people. Truly, this union is a great victory, both for love and for our future…”

                _HA!_

                A victory? _This_ was a victory? Giving up his life just to fuck up on a _nationwide_ scale? Giving up everything he wanted just to be a…a _social experiment_ for a prince who barely even knew him? No, no, this was a loss. A loss for Victor, a loss for the kingdom, and a devastating loss for Yuuri.

                He stiffened as he felt his heart begin to pound. _No._ No no no, not here, not now. He looked up with wide eyes at Victor. The prince’s expression was unreadable; it looked like he whispered his name, but his voice—as well as the officiant’s—was drowned out by a familiar high-pitched noise screaming in Yuuri’s ears. He tried to snap himself out of it, but this…the feeling was different. It wasn’t panic.

                It was… _anger._

                He wanted to shout about what a sham this was. How Victor had picked the worst possible choice of a spouse, and how he’d done that on purpose. He wanted to scream to the entire kingdom that he’d never wanted this, but that there was _no choice_ because he was _NOTHING_.

                Instead, he tugged his hands away sharply from Victor’s.

                “Yuuri?”

                This time Victor’s voice broke through the noise, sharp and concerned. Because, despite how much he hated it, Yuuri’s traitorous heart still felt the same way it had before the ball. And that just made all of this even worse.

                He quickly shook his head and stepped back, the noise in his head drowning out the gasp from the crowd. “I…I can’t,” he managed to say, voice a shaky whisper. Without so much as looking at Victor, he turned and made his way out of the ballroom as quickly as he could, pushing past the few people who tried to stop him.

                He would be mortified when he calmed down, he knew. But for now? Let them gape. Let them talk.

                Let them know that Earl Katsuki Yuuri of Hasetsu had the gall to leave Prince Victor Nikiforov at the altar.

~

                Again, if Yuuri _really_ hadn’t wanted to be found, he wouldn’t have gone to the ice.

                But he _needed_ it. He needed to burn off this anger, and he desperately needed something familiar right now. So he pushed himself back and forth across the ice, his movements sharp and savage with hard spins and quick skids that sent showers of ice shards in his wake.

                Still embolded from the anger coursing through him, he ignored the first “Yuuri!”. He ignored the second, too. It wasn’t until Victor actually stepped out onto the river—and he heard a bark and whine of protest from the bank—that he finally acknowledged the prince. No words, just a sharp look before he twisted into another hard turn.

                “What happened? Did you get stressed?” Victor’s voice carried above the scrape of Yuuri’s skates, earning another glance up. As always, Victor was unreadable. He was upset, yes, but there was no way of telling whether it was hurt or frustration. “Did you not want this?”

                In response, Yuuri kicked up another spray of ice before he pushed forward. He caught a glimpse of Victor pushing his hands through his hair before he launched himself off the ice. One turn, the start of a second…He crashed back down, one hand slamming onto the ice to keep himself from completely falling, and immediately pushed himself into another spin.

                “Yuuri, _look_ at me!” Finally, Victor’s eternal composure broke, frustration coloring his words. “If you didn’t want to marry me, you could have just said ‘no’!”

                “’You could have said no, Yuuri. You could just say no to this,’” Yuuri mocked. “Everyone seems to think it’s that simple, but it’s _not!_ ” He skidded to a sharp halt, breathing hard and shoulders tense as he kept his back to Victor. “I don’t have the _luxury_ of saying ‘no’. Because if I did, then I’d be the one who thought he was too good for the prince. Then I’m the one who ruined _every chance_ of Sagashima being more than a tiny island hardly anyone even knows _exists!_ ”

                He stayed very still as he heard Victor’s shoes slip against the ice as he attempted to walk toward him. “That wouldn’t happen, Yuuri! This wasn’t a…a trap for you. Look, you…this should be a happy day. And…” Yuuri didn’t miss Victor’s sharp breath in. “And you should be free to make whatever choice you want.”

                “God, you _don’t get it!_ ” Yuuri snapped as he whirled around to face Victor. “What I want doesn’t matter. No matter what you say, Victor, we are _not equals_. And we will _never, EVER be equals!_ ” A desperate sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob bubbled from his throat. “I’ll never be the ruler you are. I’ll never be the leader I wanted to be. My life is entirely governed by _your choices_.” He let out a shuddering breath as he let his head fall back, the movement sending him drifting backwards. “And you _know_ that. Beneath this whole act of being nice to me, you know that I had no choice but to say yes.”

                Victor stayed uncomfortably silent, and Yuuri pressed his hands to his eye. “I know I’m a fun project for you. I know the deadline for you to get the crown is tomorrow. I’ve figured out this whole game you’re playing and I _hate_ it.” He pulled his hands away, eyes wet as he met Victor’s gaze. He let out another half-laugh, half-sob as he shrugged, the movement once again pushing him away from the other man. “But I have to keep playing it, too. So I’ll go back. I’ll be your toy and accessory and put on _wonderful_ parties and social events even though I can’t stand them, and I’ll hate every bit of it. But what can I do? It’s my d—”

                He was cut off by a loud crack beneath him. His eyes went wide, and he just barely caught sight of Victor lunging toward him before the ice gave way.

                He gasped as he fell through, sucking in a lungful of ice-cold water, and his heart raced as he fought against coughing. Already he was being pulled and flipped by the powerful water of the river below. Which way was up? Would he even be able to get through the ice? His lungs betrayed him, chest spasming in a cough that just sucked in more water. He could feel darkness pulling at him, wrapping around his middle and edging into his mind. After a few more feeble struggles, he let out the little air left in his lungs and let himself go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> *A potential name for this chapter was Yuri IN Ice but I figured that was in poor taste.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has a choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! Life really caught up to me this past month, so thank you all so much for your patience!
> 
> (Also I went wild with POV and storytelling for funsies, so apologies in advance for the hot thematic mess this chapter is.)

                “Cancel the wedding.”

                “ _What?!_ But Vitya, your ascension dep—”

                “ _Was I not clear?_ ”

                Yuuri slowly came to as the argument continued, groggily surprised at the sharp edge in Victor’s voice. He only had a moment to wonder over it, though, before the pain washed over him. His throat burned, his chest ached; a lingering chill seemed to have crept just beneath his skin, and he tried to burrow further under the blankets he was wrapped in to warm up. What all had happened again?

                Oh. _Right._ He’d left Victor at the altar and almost drowned.

                He let out a tiny, rasping sigh and cuddled up to the soft warmth beside him, wishing he could just stay nestled and warm like this. And, really, wasn’t nearly dying a good enough excuse to avoid responsibilities? But it wasn’t like Yuuri to put off what needed to be done, and given the sharpness in Victor’s voice as he snapped at Yakov again, it was probably for the best to let the prince know he was alive. So, with a bit of effort, he poked his head out from the blankets and cracked open an eye. It looked as though he were laying on the floor of one of the grand bedrooms. Was it Victor’s? He opened the other eye, moving his head to see Victor seated on the floor beside him, no more than an arm’s length away and wrapped in a heavy blanket. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to focus as much as he could, then hoarsely asked, “Victor?”

                Immediately, Victor’s head snapped over to look at him. “Yuuri?” His voice was tight, but the sharpness had been replaced by obvious relief. “My _god_ , I thought…I…”

                As Victor leaned in, Yuuri squinted at him curiously. The bright blue eyes were shining oddly, and there was a line creased between the prince’s brows. Yuuri swallowed as he recognized the earnest worry on the prince’s face. _Don’t fall for_ …his brain started, but he was entirely too exhausted to continue that train of thought. So he instead settled for quietly watching Victor as he poured out his worries over Yuuri’s health and all they had gone through trying to make sure he survived. He wasn’t listening, which was probably rude, but so was staring at the damp strands of silver sticking to Victor’s forehead, the way his hands fluttered around as he spoke, the flash of lily-white skin peeking out from beneath the thick dressing gown…

                _Wait._

                Victor had been in all his wedding finery before Yuuri had gone under. There was no reason for him to be in essentially the same position as Yuuri. Unless…his eyes widened as the realization hit.

                “Did…did you rescue me?” he asked softly, interrupting Victor’s frenzied retelling of what had just happened. All at once, the prince looked away, a slightly embarrassed smile on his face.

                “Well, I…”

                “He almost killed the both of you is what happened,” Feltsman snapped from his place by the door. Yuuri turned his head and squinted as the older man huffed and crossed his arms. “Diving into freezing water when he can barely even swim…”

                “I _can_ swim!”

                “The only reason either of you are alive is because we heard Makkachin barking at the river.”

                The warm mass Yuuri had been cuddled against shifted as she heard her name, and Makkachin gave a few tail wags in acknowledgement of her heroics.

                “You’re lucky you didn’t get swept out to sea,” Feltsman grumbled, ignoring the way Victor frowned at him. “Now, since Lord Katsuki seems fine, we need to discuss…”

                “ _Yakov._ ”

                “…what we’re planning to do going forward. We could try to find a loophole to…”

                “The wedding is _cancelled_ , Yakov. That’s final.” Once again, Victor’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. Feltsman’s eyes widened at the command, then frowned hard at Victor. Victor narrowed his eyes in return. Neither moved for a long moment, then Yakov—who looked as though he were threatening to pop a blood vessel—finally threw up his hands.

                “All right! It’s cancelled. Consider your decree acknowledged, _Your Highness_ ,” He strode over to Victor, then leaned close to the prince and, in a low, quick voice Yuuri almost couldn’t make out, he said, “But after today, Vitya, I _will not_ be able to fix things for you. Keep that in mind when Yurochka takes the throne.” He stood up straight, giving Yuuri a quick nod. “And a speedy recovery to you, Lord Katsuki.” With one last glare to Victor, Feltsman turned and made his way out.

                Yuuri swallowed hard as the door slammed shut, and Victor let out a long sigh. He let his head fall forward, and, after a tense moment, sucked in a breath as he pushed his silver hair back.

                “So.” Another long pause. “You, ah…you probably should thank Makka. For saving us. She doesn’t like her good deeds to go unnoticed.”

                Yuuri cleared his throat, wincing as the action stung. “I’ll…be sure to give her plenty of treats.” He reached a hand out to pat her head. “When…when everything’s calmed down.”

                Victor sat up straight, eyes wide. “You’re staying, then?”

                Yuuri winced, burying his hand in Makkachin’s soft fur. “Nearly drowning doesn’t change anything I said. I don’t have a choice.”

                Victor swallowed hard, the muscles visibly contracting beneath pale skin of his throat. “I know you didn’t,” he admitted softly. “I…I was…I’m…” He shut his eyes and sighed. “I’m not completely oblivious. I know what position I put you in. And I…I was using it to my advantage. But things seemed to be going so well, and I had no idea you felt so _trapped_ , and I should have seen the signs earlier but you were, you _are_ so…so…” Victor’s eyes opened, the bright blue focusing on Yuuri. “You are so _captivating_ , Yuuri. When you let yourself relax, you’re the brightest thing in the room. I didn’t want to risk losing that.”

                Yuuri blinked, and he rasped out a wry laugh. “Victor, you can stop this. I told you, I figured out your game. You can be honest with me.”

                To his surprise, a flash of hurt crossed Victor’s face. “You really think I’m lying? After all of this?”

                Yuuri shrugged, looking at the floor. “I know court marriages aren’t for love. And nothing looks better than transforming a stammering mess of an earl into the Prince Consort, so it makes sense that…” Yuuri stopped as he noticed the strange look on Victor’s face. If he didn’t know any better, it looked as if Victor was trying not to cry.

                “Have I really been cruel enough to make you think that’s all this was? Some sort o-of charity project?”

The question was no more than a whisper, and Yuuri’s heart twisted as he realized it was a genuine one. He swallowed hard.  

                “No. No, you’ve been nothing but kind. In fact, before the ball, I was sure I…” Yuuri’s throat tightened before he could finish the sentence, and he shook his head. “But…but I know myself, Victor. There’s nothing here worth staking a kingdom on.”

                “ _Yes_ , there is.” Victor leaned forward, eyes wide. “I knew the moment you came up to me at the banquet last year that you…” He stopped as Yuuri suddenly burst out into a surprised, wheezing laugh. “What? What’s so funny about that?”

                “Sorry, sorry. I know this is serious, but you’re _terrible_ at lying.” He half-smiled. “I didn’t go to the banquet. I spent the whole night hiding in my room after I flubbed the Senate meeting.”

                Victor blinked, mouth drawing into a little moue. “Do you not remember?”

                Yuuri shook his head. “I mean, Celestino got me to go for all of about five minutes, and I’m pretty sure I spent the whole time drowning my…” All at once, he sat up straight, eyes wide and mouth open in a horrified, silent scream. It took a few moments, but he finally got one phrase out.

                “Oh my _god._ ”

~            

                Victor felt like he was about to _die._

                He told Yakov as much, and all he’d gotten in return was an eyeroll. As if he didn’t know that the Senate banquet was _the most boring thing on the planet._ And it wasn’t like Victor was shirking his duty; he politely listened to baron after boring baron thank him for approving whatever suggestion they’d put forth in the meeting, and giving polite smiles as various lords and ladies mentioned sons, daughters, and other relations that would just _love_ to meet him.

                Each knowing smile made his stomach twist; even if the stipulation to his ascension wasn’t _officially_ known to the public, word travelled fast in the Capitol. Every event was full of “Oh, Your Highness, you would not _believe_ how well my darling Mireille plans dinner parties. You simply _must_ come to one,” or “Prince Victor, come say hello to my nephew Alexei. You’ll adore talking to him, he’s an _excellent_ conversationalist.” Honestly, every time he stepped out of the palace, it was like being in a sea of vicious, marriage-obsessed sharks. He needed a break.

                “Vitya, where are you going?” Yakov asked in a low voice as Victor edged away from his side. Victor gave him one of his sunniest smiles.

                “Well, I saw Chris come in and I thought I’d say hi, and…”

                “You are not going within _three feet_ of Lord Giacometti today.”

                Victor groaned, tossing his head back (The motion wasn’t as dramatic with short hair, he’d found, but old habits die hard.). “Yakov, I’m _twenty-six._ I’m not a child, and I don’t need to be babysat.”

                Yakov sighed. “No…you’re not.” Before Victor could get a smug word in, though, he added, “You’re an insufferable pain-in-the-neck who’ll be the cause of my death.” At Victor’s wounded look, he sighed again. “Vitya, this is the first time you’re interacting with the Senate since your parents’ deaths. If you want them to start respecting you, then you have to show that you’re _responsible._ ”

                “I _am_ responsible!”

                “Well, I’ve yet to see proof of that.”

                Before Victor could protest, one of the servers came up to whisper something to Yakov. The older man’s jaw clenched, and he just barely kept his voice to a whisper as he hissed, “ _Three?!_ ” The server gave a meek nod and assured he’d find a way to make up for it before scurrying away. As Yakov fumed, Victor raised an eyebrow.

                “Should I a—"

                “Three bottles of champagne!” Yakov hissed. “One guest has had _three whole bottles._ Do you know how much that costs?”

                “Wow.” Sounded like Victor’s sort of guest. He’d have to find them. “Wonder who that was.”

                “Well, whoever they are, they’ll be footing the bill for…”  

                “ _VICTOOOOOOR!!_ ”

                Both Yakov and Victor looked up at the shout. Ah, there was the culprit. Neither had time to react before the dark-haired young man (Was he one of the barons? He looked familiar, but Victor’s memory was terrible) stumbled up to them, reaching out to grab Victor’s hands.

                “Your Maj…Your Highn… _Victor!_ Dance with me!” The man looked up at him with starry eyes, and Victor couldn’t help his smile.

                “ _What do you think you’re_ —” Yakov started, but the man had already pulled Victor out to the middle of the ballroom before he could finish his sentence. Victor glanced back at Yakov, then gave a bright smile and a little shrug before turning back to his kidnapper. He managed an unsteady bow, then abruptly set one hand on Victor’s waist and wrapped the other around Victor’s hand. And they began to dance.

                Well, sort of. The movements were sloppy, the steps were completely out of time with the music and didn’t match the pace at all. But they fell into an easy rhythm all the same, following a silent song made just for the two of them. Victor’s partner was all smiles as he and Victor whirled around the other guests, both of them laughing at the wild, haphazard dance he was creating for them. Eventually, he pressed his forehead to Victor’s.

                “I don’t…I don’t wanna bore you,” he said, brown eyes bright as they locked onto Victor’s. “Ev’ryone’s boring in there, but I didn’t wanna be.” His brow creased. “But I messed up.”

                _Oh!_ That’s right. This was Lord Katsuki, from Sagashima. The one who had been frozen when he was supposed to speak. Victor had been disappointed for him, but to see him come out after an embarrassing experience and have so much fun? _Wow!_ He really was Victor’s kind of guest.

                Katsuki suddenly perked up, expression determined. “I’m not…I’m a good earl! I _am!_ Listen, listen! Our recent cen…sus has shown that Saga-ga-gashima has seen a twelve…TWELVE PERCENT increase of our population in the past year. As a growing part of the kingdom, I-I think it would be bene…bene…I think it’d be good if we get more money for schools and have people come work here. You see? I know how to do earl stuff!”

                Victor blinked. Katsuki’s brow furrowed, and he wet his lips as he looked over Victor’s shoulder. Victor turned his head curiously; the only thing there was a slim pillar, more decorative than functional.

                “But…but I can do other stuff. Not boring stuff. You know…you know what mallakhamb is?”

                Victor had barely shaken his head before Katsuki pushed himself back, already shedding his coat and toeing off his shoes. He fixed his dark eyes on Victor, a bright, excited look on his face.

                “Then watch me.”

                How could Victor refuse? So he (and several others) watched as the Earl of Hasetsu stripped down to his drawers and gave a _very_ acrobatic mallakhamb performance. (Chris, apparently, was familiar with mallakhamb as well; either that, or he just wanted an excuse to strip and flounce around a pole with a very cute, nearly naked man. Either was likely for him.)

                To say Victor was smitten was the understatement of the year.

                Eventually, though, it looked as though Yakov was about to have Katsuki arrested (or, given the vein popping out of his forehead, publicly executed). So, as he dismounted to varying degrees of applause and horrified gasps, Victor took his hand and pulled him back to the dance floor. Katsuki grinned up at him.

                “Not boring, right?”

                Victor gave a light laugh, shrugging off his own coat to drape over Katsuki’s shoulders. “Definitely not boring, Lord Katsuki.”

                “ _Yuuuu-ri._ ”

                “Hm?”

                “That’s my name. _Yuuuu-ri._ Call me that.”

                “Of course, _Yuuri_.”

                Yuuri’s entire face brightened, and Victor’s heart melted. However, as Yuuri slipped his arms over Victor’s shoulders, he frowned. “I miss your hair.”

                Victor blinked. “What?”

                “Your hair! It was…it was so…” Yuuri huffed, lightly tugging at a strand. “Why’d you cut it?”

                Victor half-smiled. Yuuri remembered his long hair? And he’d _liked_ it? “Tradition, I guess. All the kings-to-be cut their hair.” Well, this was assuming he’d actually get there. Yuuri’s eyes widened.

                “That’s right, you’re gonna be King Victor!” He pulled himself up, once again pressing his forehead to Victor’s. “I…I think you’ll be a great king,” he whispered.

                Victor gave a small laugh. “You’re not just saying that because you’ve had three bottles of champagne, are you?”

                Yuuri shook his head. “No! I-I think you’re _wonderful_. You’ll be…you’ll be _the best_ king.” He perked up a bit. “And if you…if you need anything—ANYTHING—I’ll…I’ll help!” He swallowed. “I know Sagashima’s not really big, but…but I want to help!” He gave Victor another wide, heart-melting smile as he hung on him. “I’d do anything for you. I—”

                “ _Yuuri!_ ”

                Both Yuuri and Victor looked up as Baron Celestino Caldini hurried up to them. He gave a quick bow to Victor before carefully prying Yuuri’s arms off of him, ignoring the mumbled protests from the earl.

                “I am _so_ sorry, Your Highness. He’s never…I’ve never seen him like this,” Caldini said hurriedly, holding Yuuri up. “This is in _no way_ indicative of Lord Katsuki’s usual behavior, I swear.”

                Victor shook his head, putting on a polite smile for Caldini even though he was still watching Yuuri—who was now slumped against the baron—with bright eyes. “It’s fine. I’ve never had so much fun at a banquet.”

                Caldini shook his head, mumbling out one more apology before guiding Yuuri away. The earl managed one more bright smile and wave to Victor before abruptly passing out against Caldini’s shoulder. Victor stood for a moment, watching them go, then gave a wistful sigh as he went to find Yakov.

                _I’d do anything for you._ Hm.

                No, that was a selfish thought. But…well, time was running out. And honestly, when would Victor find someone who treated him like Yuuri had?

                He found Yakov barking orders to one of the servers to stop serving alcohol _this minute_ , and he cleared his throat. “Yakov.”

                Yakov glared at him. “Are you done? The night’s still young; there’s still time to be an embarrassment to your family name.”

                The insult didn’t even phase Victor. “I want you do to some research into Lord Katsuki.”

                “Oh, _believe me_ , I plan to. He’ll be held responsible for the _spectacle_ he made of a very serious ev—”

                “No! God, Yakov, don’t do that!”

                Yakov blinked, and he crossed his arms. “Then why, _Your Highness_ , do you want me to look into him?”

                Victor glanced over at the door. Yuuri was long gone, but a lingering warmth was still bubbling in Victor’s chest. He pressed a finger to his mouth with a smile. “I want to know if all of his claims were true.”

~

                “I did _what?!_ ” Yuuri shrieked as Victor finished his retelling of the events.

                Victor shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t remember. Even Chris can’t drink three bottles of champagne on his own.”

                Yuuri covered his face, sinking back down into the blankets. In this moment, he wished he was still in the river. “I’m a complete monster when I’m drunk.” He let out a little groan. “If anything, that just _proves_ that you shaped me into something respectable.”

                “ _Yuuri._ ”

                Yuuri peeked out from behind his fingers. Victor leaned forward, face serious but eyes warm.

                “No one has _ever_ treated me the way you did at the banquet…”

                “I’m sor—”

                “So how could I not fall in love with you?”

                A strangled noise escaped Yuuri at Victor’s words. It wasn’t even a confession; he said it as if it were as obvious as saying the sky was blue. Yuuri pulled his hands away from his face, staring at Victor with wide eyes. Victor met his gaze evenly, leaning even closer to Yuuri.

                “I wanted to learn everything about you. What you like, what you didn’t like, what it was like to grow up in Sagashima, why you were so scared of speaking. And…and if it wasn’t for this damn deadline, I _swear_ I would have gone about things the right way, but I thought we could make up for lost time once we were married.” Victor’s shoulders sagged. “I never thought you’d hate this so much.”

                Yuuri swallowed, brain desperately trying to keep up with everything he’d been told. Through the swirl of information, though, one thought shone like a beacon.

                _Victor loves me._

                He loved him enough to dive into a frozen river after him. Enough to call off the wedding his ascension depended on. He loved him enough to tell him so without any hesitation.

                He swallowed hard as he stared at Victor, then did his best to push himself out from the cocoon of blankets.

                “Yuuri? What are you doing?”

                “There’s still time,” Yuuri said, detangling his arms and pushing himself up. “It’s not your birthday yet.”

                Victor’s eyes went wide, and he quickly set his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders to stop him. “Yuuri, no. It’s cancelled.”

                “But the cro—”

                “To hell with the crown!” Yuuri blinked as Victor’s words came out sharply. The prince looked surprised as well, and he let out a laugh that was supposed to be care-free but failed miserably. “It’s not like anyone expected me to pull this off, anyway. And can you imagine how happy Yuri will be?” He cupped Yuuri’s cheek. “We can do things properly this way. You can decline if you’re not happy, and you’ll get to be the leader you wanted to be.” He gave an uncharacteristically wobbly smile. “I always thought I’d make a good trophy husband.”

                Yuuri swallowed, brow furrowed. Victor leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

                “It’s better this way, Yuuri. Everyone wins.”

                “You know, you really are terrible at lying.”

                Victor pulled back in surprise, and Yuuri met his eyes straight on. He took a breath, resting his hand over Victor’s as he kept his gaze. Yuuri was acutely aware that he had immeasurable power over not only his life, but Victor’s as well. And that was…much scarier than he thought it’d be. He swallowed.

                “You’ve worked so hard for this, so of course you don’t want to give it up. And I understand that,” he said. “Since I first came here, you’ve always met me where I am. It’s time that I return the favor.” He squeezed Victor’s hand. “So _yes_ , Prince Victor Nikiforov, I _will_ marry you tonight.”

                Victor stayed frozen in place, and Yuuri didn’t let his gaze waver. One long moment passed. Then another. Yuuri began to wonder if he’d said something wrong.

                But his brain abruptly stopped as Victor lunged forward and pressed an excited, sloppy kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

                He fell backwards against the blankets—pulling Victor down with him and earning an irritated huff from Makkachin—and looked up at Victor with wide eyes. The prince stared back, giving a little laugh.

                “Should I have waited for the ceremony?”

                Yuuri gave him a warm grin. “No. Definitely not,” he said, then reached a hand up to brush Victor’s cheek before pulling him down for another kiss. His heart sang as his lips met Victor’s, moving in a rhythm as easy and natural as the one they’d skated to. He ran one hand up through Victor’s hair while the other held him close, never wanting to let go.

                This was it.

                This was what he’d wanted since the moment he laid eyes on Victor Nikiforov. More than wanting to impress him, more than wanting to fulfill his duty; he wanted Victor close to him, away from the world’s prying eyes and—

                He jolted in surprise as Victor abruptly pushed himself up, blue eyes wide. “My god, you have nothing to wear.”

                “What?”

                “For the wedding! The water ruined our suits. You could borrow one of mine, but I don’t know if it would fit and you can’t wear something too big on your _wedding day_. Oh! The engagement ball suits! We could wear them and—” Victor was cut off as Yuuri pressed a finger to his lips, giving him a smile.

                “Actually…I think I have something that would work.”

~

                It was, without a doubt, one of the most chaotic weddings the kingdom had ever seen. A groom walking out! Both grooms nearly drowning! A cancellation at nine p.m. and then an un-cancellation at 10 p.m.! It was a lucky thing that it was the prince’s wedding, or else almost everyone invited would have gone home—some of them already had to be roused from bed to attend the second try of the ceremony, which meant that there was a significant portion of their guests in pajamas and dressing gowns.

                However, for all of the whispers and grumbling, it was agreed that the ceremony was well worth the wait.

                The prince was resplendent in his purple suit, the color accenting the silver of his hair and the bright blue of his eyes. And, once the door opened, the crowd let out a collective murmur of appreciation as Katsuki Yuuri, Earl of Hasetsu entered. He was a little pale and shaky from his dip earlier, yes, but, the bright blue and delicate silver accents of his kimono suited him beautifully. And, as he approached the altar—this time with bright eyes and eagerly taking Victor’s hands—there was a general agreement that it’d been quite some time since anyone had seen such a lovely couple.

                (When Phichit ran this account of their wedding by Yuuri before he headed back home, Yuuri gently suggested that the last sentence might have been a _little bit_ of an exaggeration. Phichit adamantly refused to change it.)

                The officiant—who had been one of those brought out of bed for the second wedding—gave a highly abridged version of the vows, but as the “I do”s were said, birds all over the mainland began to sing and the sun came out in the middle of the night and—

(“ _Phichit._ ”

 “It’s a metaphor.”

 “It sounds like the apocalypse. You can’t tell everyone that.”)

                The officiant—who had been one of those brought out of bed for the second wedding—gave a highly abridged version of the vows, but as the “I do”s were said, ~~birds all over the mainland began to sing and the sun came out in the middle of the night and~~ Victor and Yuuri couldn’t break their gaze from each other, both men looking the happiest they’d been in a very, very long time.

(“How about that?”

 “Hm…one more edit. I’ll take care of it.”)

                The officiant—who had been one of those brought out of bed for the second wedding—gave a highly abridged version of the vows, but as the “I do”s were said, ~~birds all over the mainland began to sing and the sun came out in the middle of the night and~~ Victor and Yuuri couldn’t break their gaze from each other, both men ~~looking the~~ definitely the happiest they’d been in a very, very long time.

(“Perfect.”)

~

                Like the whole wedding, the party afterward was a little odd. Half the guests went back to bed, for one thing, and the other half seemed a little disconcerted. There were a lot of congratulations on both getting married and not drowning. Eventually, though, the band was brought up, and the party continued the way it was meant to.

                It was all Yuuri could do to even acknowledge the well-wishers that came up to them. He wanted nothing more than to take Victor away and spend the rest of the night with him. Now that they had time to breathe, he wanted to know everything he could about the pr—his _husband._ So if they could just…

                “Yuuri-kun!”

                Yuuri’s thoughts of escape were cut short as he heard his mother’s voice, and he brightened as he saw his family making their way over. He took Victor’s hand, pulling him away from some baroness’s seemingly never-ending conversation and guiding him to his family.

                “This is my mother, Baroness Katsuki Hiroko, and my father, Lord Katsuki Toshiya, and my sister, Lady Katsuki Mari,” he introduced breathlessly, grinning at Victor before turning back to his family. “And this…well, you know who he is.”

                As Victor made the rounds of handshakes and thanking them each for coming and how lovely it was to finally meet Yuri’s family, Toshiya nodded. “It’s a shame we couldn’t meet you before now. But that’s court life, isn’t it?”

                “Well, drowning usually isn’t, I don’t think,” Mari added wryly.

                “You’d be surprised, actually!” Victor said, then wrapped his arm around Yuuri with a sunny smile. “But we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other when Yuuri and I come to Sagashima for our honeymoon.”

                Yuuri looked up at Victor in surprise. “Our what?”

                “Oh, do they not have honeymoons in Sagashima?”

                “N-no, but I don’t think you’d…”

                “You said there’s hot springs and katsudon. I can’t think of a better place for a honeymoon.” He smiled as he held up Yuuri’s arm, eyes bright as he ran a hand over the silken kimono sleeve. “And I could get one of these!”

                Yuuri let out a small laugh despite himself. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess it’d make an all right honeymoon. And we can definitely get you a kimono.”

                “We’d be happy to have you stay with us,” Hiroko added with a warm smile. “After all, you _are_ family now, Vicchan.”

                Yuuri immediately stiffened at the nickname, and he abruptly grabbed Victor’s arm. “Wellit’sbeengreatbutwereallyneedtodancerightnow,” he yammered out, then pulled Victor away as he fought the blush creeping onto his cheeks and ears.

                “What, but…?” Victor looked at Yuuri in surprise as he set a hand on his hip. “What’s wrong? Did you not want to go to Sagashima after all?”

                “No. Just…ah…” How did he explain this? “Well, Vicchan is…it was my dog’s name.”

                “I don’t mind! Though it is a little strange that your mother would…”

                “Vicchan is short for Victor,” Yuuri blurted. Victor blinked, staring at Yuuri in surprise as the pieces suddenly fell into place.

                “You…named your dog after me?”

                Yuuri nodded, waiting for the inevitable sign that, husband or not, Victor would think it was weird and creepy that he named his _dog_ after _the prince._ A moment passed. Then another. Then, Yuuri realized, Victor’s eyes had actually _misted over._

“That’s not a joke? You…you liked me _that much_?”

                “You…you don’t mind?”

                “How could I mind you giving _my name_ to _your dog?_ If you’d told me that, I would have married you the minute you stepped off the boat!” He pulled Yuuri close with a grin as they swayed. “I could always make ‘Yurochka’ Makkachin’s middle name. She wouldn’t mind.”

                Yuuri laughed, embarrassment melting away. Well, only for a moment; it abruptly returned as he felt two hands slide over his backside.

                “So I finally get to meet the monster making an honest man out of Victor,” a voice murmured in his ear. Yuuri looked over in surprise to catch a green eye winking at him. “Though, I can’t say I can fault his choice. It’s hard to pass up a man who knows mallakhamb.”

                “Chris!” Yuuri looked back to catch Victor’s face brighten. “Yuuri, this is Christophe Giacometti, Duke of Suietz. You danced with him last year! And this…” He spun Yuuri around to face Christophe, arm wrapped around him as he gave his sunniest smile. “…is my _husband!_ ”

                Christophe gave a bow, taking Yuuri’s hand and giving it a quick kiss. “ _Enchanté._ A million congratulations. Though, Lord Katsuki, would it be all right if I stole your husband away for one last dance? With all the excitement, we didn’t get to celebrate his last night as a bachelor.”

                Victor looked to Yuuri curiously. He smiled and gave a nod. “Of course.”

                Victor smiled, and Christophe grinned before taking Victor’s arm. “I’ll return him in one piece, I swear.” As they walked away, Yuuri could catch just a snippet of their whispered conversation:

                “So I heard you almost _drowned?”_

                “Yes, and it was _so incredibly worth it!_ ”

                Yuuri smiled, watching Victor recount their day to Christophe until they were lost in the fray of dancing, then sighed happily. Well, this worked out. He could give his family the whole story of what happened, and Phichit was probably dying to know about the whole abandoning-the-altar-then-almost-drowning-then-getting-married thing. He’d go find…

                He stopped as a hand was shoved out at him, nearly whacking him in the chin.

                “Er, sorry, I…” He looked to see who owned the hand and immediately stiffened as Yuri Plisetsky frowned at him.

                “I want to dance,” he said flatly.

                “Um…are you sure yo—?”

                “ _Yes._ Now dance with me.”

                Well, it wasn’t like Yuuri could say _no._ So he took Yuri’s hand and nodded. “All right. Then let’s dance.”

                It was wildly uncomfortable.

                Yuri seemed to be trying to lead while touching Yuuri as little as possible, and he was steadfastly not meeting Yuuri’s eyes. Was this some sort of power play? The young duke _did_ have a habit of kicking Yuuri down when he was feeling good about himself after all. Well, Yuuri might as well address what they were both thinking, at least.

                “I’m sorry. It looks like I got in the way of you getting the throne again. I…”

                Yuri mumbled something that Yuuri couldn’t quite hear. Because it certainly couldn’t have been the world’s tiniest “Thank you.”

                “Um…what? I couldn’t quite hear…”

                “What, are you deaf _and_ stupid?” Yuri shot back, though there wasn’t nearly as much bite as Yuuri would have expected. He frowned up at Yuuri, then looked away again. “I…Yakov came and told me that Victor might miss his deadline. And I…” Yuri grimaced, then lifted his chin and scowled at Yuuri. “Well, if you hadn’t _not_ _died_ , it’d just be a default win. I’d rather have Victor completely mess things up; it’d make me look better.” He looked at the floor again. “So…thanks for not dying, I guess.”

                Yuuri smiled a bit. “Uh, you’re welcome?”

                Yuri gave a nod, then looked back as he noticed the song was still going. He huffed. “We can’t stop until the song’s over. People will notice.”

                “Ah.”

                The awkwardness grew even worse. Finally, Yuuri broke the silence by asking, “I…uh, your waistcoat’s really nice. Is that tiger fur?”

                Immediately Yuri’s face brightened. “It is! _Real_ tiger fur. It’s actually part of a suit but _apparently_ a whole tiger fur suit isn’t _appropriate_ for a wedding, even a weird one like this was.”

                Yuuri chuckled a bit at that. “Well, you should absolutely wear it to the next event. Though I can’t help but feel a little bad for the tiger.”

                All at once, Yuri’s smile dropped, and he looked up at Yuuri with wide eyes as they abruptly stopped dancing. “Why? What…what’s wrong with the tiger?”

                Yuuri shrugged. “I mean, it just seems a little cruel that they have to skin it to—”

                “THEY KILLED THE TIGER?!”

                Yuuri blinked. “What…did you think they did?”

                “ _I thought they shaved it!_ ” Without another word, Yuri—eyes still wide and mouth in a tight line—let go of Yuuri and abruptly stalked off. Probably to find out who killed the tiger.

                “ _Well._ I don’t know what you said, but it looks like you nearly made little Yuri cry.” Yuuri looked up as Victor slid an arm around him. “You’ll have hell to pay for that. We’d best go hide before he comes back.”

                Yuuri half-smiled. “But the party…?”

                “They’ll be fine.” Victor pulled Yuuri toward the door. “Besides, I hardly got to spend any time with my fiancé. I don’t want to make the same mistake with my husband. Besides,” he murmured as he kissed Yuuri’s temple, “I have a wedding gift for you.”

                Well, it wasn’t like Yuuri could argue against that. So out they slipped, Victor taking Yuuri’s hand and excitedly pulling him through the grand halls of the palace. Finally, he pulled him into an empty room.

                “The ballroom has the best view, but, as you know, it’s filled to the brim right now,” Victor said. “And I wanted this to be between us, at least for now.”

                Yuuri watched curiously as Victor let go of his hand and strode over to the windows. He pulled back the curtains, and Yuuri let out a quiet breath as he saw the bright lights of the city below. He stepped up to the window, almost able to hear the reveling of the people below as bright fireworks popped up into the sky. He let out a soft laugh.

                “Well, your people do love a good wedding, almost-King Victor.”

                “ _Our_ people, you mean.” Victor returned to Yuuri’s side, draping an arm around him. Yuuri smiled up at him.

                “I guess you’re right,” he said, resting his head against Victor’s shoulder with a content sigh. “This is a lovely wedding present.”

                “Oh, that’s not the present. I just wanted to set the mood,” Victor said brightly.

                Yuuri lifted his head with a little frown. “What?”

                “Well, now that I’ve met the criteria and _will_ be crowned king, I’m Prince Regent for the next month or so. Which means I can draft new laws.”

                “I…guess that makes sense.”

                “And I was thinking, this whole Prince Consort thing’s really old-fashioned.” He tilted his head curiously as he looked at Yuuri. “So what do you think about co-ruling the kingdom?” He winked. “King Yuuri has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

                Yuuri stared at Victor, one hand immediately going to his mouth as he felt his eyes mist over. “I…I…” He couldn’t even begin to find the words to thank Victor. So he didn’t bother. Instead, he more or less launched himself at his husband, meeting his lips in a long, grateful kiss. Victor laughed into it, wrapping his arms tightly around Yuuri and eagerly returning the kiss before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together.

                “And you’ll help me draft the law, right? I’m useless at it.”

                “ _Yes._ Yes. I…I swear, I’ll be the best co-ruler I can possibly be. I…” Yuuri met Victor’s eyes warmly, heart bubbling over. “God, you’re wonderful. I don’t know how I got to be so lucky.”

                “Well, the three bottles of champagne helped, probably,” Victor teased, then cupped Yuuri’s face as he smiled at him. “Now, we have two options. We can go back to the party and get congratulated by people we don’t care about. _Or_ , we can stay in here, and I can _finally_ get to know all the ins and outs of Prince Regent Katsuki Yuuri.”

                “I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” Yuuri replied with a laugh before pulling his husband into another kiss.

                And so, with much love and grace and several dogs, the two kings lived happily ever after.

  

                                                                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *As much as I wanted to find a way for historically ambiguous Yuuri to pole dance, I couldn't quite bring myself to do it. However, [mallakhamb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn_pmXX4Zzw&ab_channel=IncredibleMallakhamb) is amazing, and while it's not quite as sexual, I still think it's pretty sexy.
> 
> *Don't ask where Yuuri learned mallakhamb. It was probably while he was studying abroad.
> 
> *The next day, Yurio has a full funeral for his suit, in memory of the awesome tiger who was UNJUSTLY KILLED even if the suit did look super cool.
> 
> *Alternate name for this chapter: HOW DO I GET ALL THE CHARACTERS I WANT TO FIT IN THIS LAST CHAPTER BEFORE WRAPPING THIS BAD BOY UP??
> 
> *Things I would add in the sequel I'm not going to write: 1) More Chris, 2) So much more Extra Victor, 3) MORE. CHRIS. 4) gossip about Actual Seductress Katsuki Yuuri and how he uses his ~wiles~ to get his way in the kingdom, 5) CHRIS AND VITYA ALL THE TIME and 6) Yurio continuously trying to goad Yuuri into declaring war on JJ's country. 
> 
> ("Why would we even want that, Yura?"  
> "LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME THAT'S NOT AN ASSHOLE WHO DESERVES A WAR.")
> 
> *And finally, thank you all so, so much for reading! I'm so glad so many people seemed to like this silly fic, and let me tell you, the kudos and comments have given me LIFE. If you liked this, maybe check out some of my other stuff? Mostly it's me crying in written form over Victor and/or skeletons, but yanno. Might be worth a looksee.
> 
> Thanks again! ( ´ ♡ `)ノ～ ♡
> 
> *UPDATE: I've written a sequel/prequel about Prince Victor called [Metanoia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290523/chapters/27939447). So if you want to get a little more insight on Victor's character in this, check it out!


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